LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS. 
ERIC  SCHMIDT 


'^'ji 


f^ 


THE    LIFE 


OP 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


BY 

JAMES    BOSWELL. 


WITH   NOTES  BY 

JOHN    WILSON    CROKER, 

H.IWKIXS,  riOZZI,  31  ALONE,  SCOTT,  CHALMERS,  AND  OTHERS. 


IN    FOUR    VOLUMES, 
VOL.    I. 


NEW   YORK: 

JOHN  B.  ALDEN,  PUBLISHER. 
1887. 


P  E  E  F  A  C  E. 


The  object  of  this  undertaking  is  to  place  before  the  public,  m  an 
uniform  and  portable  form,  and  at  a  very  moderate  price,  all  the 
existing  materials  for  the  biography  of  Dr.  Johnson,  together  with 
copious  illustrations,  critical,  explanatory,  and  graphical.  The  col- 
lection will  be  comprised  in  four  volumes — one  volume  to  be  pub- 
lished on  the  1st  of  every  month,  until  the  whole  is  completed. 

"  The  "  Life  of  Johnson  "  by  Boswell — the  most  interesting  and 
instructive  specimen  of  biography  that  has  ever  been  given  to  the 
world — must,  of  course,  occupy  the  chief  space  and  attention  ;  and 
that  author's  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides  "  will  be  incor- 
porated in  his  main  narrative,  after  the  example  of  his  last  editor, 
the  Right  Hon.  John  Wilson  Croker  ;  who  justly  observes,  that 
nothing  could  have  prevented  Boswell  himself  from  making  this 
arrangement,  but  the  legal  obstacle  arising  out  of  his  previous  con- 
tract with  the  bookseller  who  had  published  the  Journal. 

Johnson's  own  diary  of  his  Tour  into  Wales  in  1174,  nrst  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Duppa  in  1816,  and  various  private  letters  to  Mrs 
Thrale  and  others,  have  also  been  inserted  [within  brackets]  in  the 
text  of  Boswell  :  he  himself  having  uniformly  availed  himself  of 


t1  preface. 

uimilar  new  materials  as  they  reached  his  hand  whUe  occupied  with 
the  second  and  third  editions  of  his  work. 

The  present  Editors,  however,  have  not  judged  it  proper  to  follow 
the  example  of  Mr,  Croker,  in  interweaving  with  the  text  of  Bos- 
well  any  materials,  however  valuable,  derived  from  other  pens  than 
those  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  the  original  biographer  himself.  Their 
plan  has  been  to  give,  from  minor  biographers  and  miscellaneous 
authorities,  in  the  form  of  foot-notes  to  Boswell's  text,  whatever 
appeared  to  bear  directly  on  the  subjects  therein  discussed,  or  on 
fads  of  Johnson's  life  therein  omitted  ;  but  to  reserve  for  the  con- 
cluding volume  the  rich  assemblage  of  mere  conversational  frag- 
ments, supplied  by  Piozzi,  Hawkins,  Tyers,  Miss  Eeyuolds,  Murphy, 
Cumberland,  Nichols,  and  the  other  friends  and  acquaintances  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  who  have,  in  their  various  writings,  added  to  the 
general  record  of  his  wit  and  wisdom.  This  arrangement  has  seemed 
that  most  consistent  with  a  just  estimation  of  the  literary  character 
of  Boswell.  Altogether  unrivalled  in  his  own  style  of  narrative,  it 
was  considered  as  hardly  fair  to  his  memory,  that  his  text  should 
not  appear  pure  and  unbroken. 

The  division  of  Boswell's  text  into  chapters,  now  for  the  first 
time  adopted,  will,  the  Editors  presume,  be  found  convenient  to  the 
reader. 

In  the  Appendices  to  the  various  volumes  ;  in  the  foot-notes 
throughout  ;  and  in  the  compilation  of  the  miscellaneous  pages  of 
this  valuable  biography,  the  Editors  have  availed  themselves, 
to  the  fullest  extent  compatible  with  their  general  scheme,  of  Mr 
Croker's  admirable  annotations.  The  edition  of  1831  excited  so 
much  notice  among  the  leading  contributors  to  our  periodical  press, 
that  a  new  and  plentiful  source  of  elucidation,  both  historical  and 
critical,  has  been  placed  at  the  command  of  Mr.  Croker's  success- 
ors ;  and  of  this,  also,  they  have  eudeavoured  to  make  the  proper 
osc.    Finally,  the  Editors  have  Ijeen  enabled,  by  the  kindness  of  lite- 


PbEFACE.  V\\ 

rary  friends,  to  eurich  the  present  work  with  a  very  consideraok 
supply  of  illustrative  materials  entirely  new  ;  but  of  this  it  will 
become  the  Editors  to  say  little,  until  their  task  shall  have  been 
completed. 

It  has  been  their  ambition,  and  it  is  their  earnest  hope,  to  be 
instrumental  in  opening  and  familiarising  to  the  greatly  expanded, 
and  hourly  expanding  circle  of  intelligent  readers  in  the  lef.s  affluent 
classes  of  the  community,  a  mine  of  information  and  amusement, 
which  may  be  said  to  have  been  hitherto  accessible  only  to  the  pur- 
chasers of  expensive  books  ;  and  even  to  these  by  no  means  so 
directly  or  so  conveniently  as,  after  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  and 
with  them  of  so  many  legal  copyrights,  might  have  fairly  been 
expected  in  this  sera  cf  cheap  literature. 

Reserving  for  another  occasion  what  they  may  have  to  say  with 
respect  to  the  minor  biographers  of  Johnson,  the  Editors  now  pro- 
ceed to  a  few  remarks  on  the  great  work  of  Boswell. 

His  Journal  of  the  Tour  to  the  Hebrides  in  1773,  was  published 
\n  1785,  the  year  after  Johnson's  death,  in  one  volume  octavo  ;  and 
has  since  been  separately  printed  many  times.  It  was,  as  has  been 
mentioned,  first  incorporated  with  the  Author's  general  narrative  of 
the  Doctor's  Life  in  the  edition  of  Mr.  Croker,  1831  ;  and  this 
example  will  assuredly  be  adhered  to  in  all  future  editions.  Not 
the  least  interesting  circumstance  connected  with  this  Tour  is,  that 
Johnson  read  from  time  to  time  Boswell's  record  of  his  sayings 
and  doings,  and  so  far  from  being  displeased  with  its  minuteness, 
expressed  great  admiration  of  its  accuracy,  and  encouraged  the 
chronicler  to  proceed  with  his  grand  ulterior  undertaking  ;  viz.,  the 
"  Life  of  Johnson  ;"  which  first  appeared,  in  two  volumes  quarto, 
in  April,  1791 — seven  years  after  Dr.  Johnson's  death. 

Boswell  gave  a  second  edition  of  the  Life  in  1794,  and  was 
engaged  in  preparing  a  third,  when  death  overtook  him  in  1795. 
His  new  materials  were  made  use  of  by  his  friend  and  executor,  the 


nil  PREFACE. 

estimable  Edinoud  Malone,  who  brought  out  the  third  edition  m 
1799  ;  and  superintended,  likewise  the  fourth  in  1804  ;  a  fifth,  in 
1801  ;  and  a  sixth,  in  1811.  In  these  editions,  Mr.  Malone  gave 
many  valuable  notes  of  his  own  ;  and  was  also  furnished  with 
important  assistance  by  Dr.  Charles  Burney,  author  of  the  **  History 
of  Music,"  and  father  of  the  authoress  of  "  Evelina  ;"  by  the  Rev. 
J.  Blakeway,  of  Shrewsbury  ;  James  Bindley,  Esq.,  First  Commis- 
sioner of  Stamps  ;  the  Eev.  Dr.  Vyse,  Rector  of  Lambeth  ;  the 
Rev.  Dr  Kearney,  Archdeacon  of  Raphoe,  in  Ireland  ;  and  James 
Boswell,  Esq.  jun.,  the  second  son  of  the  Biographer.  The  contri- 
butions of  Malone,  and  his  various  friends,  are  distinguished  in  the 
present  collection  by  their  respective  signatures. 

Mr.  Chalmers  further  enriched  the  Annotations  on  Boswell,  in 
the  ninth  edition,  which  he  published  in  1822;  and  he  liberally 
allowed  Mr.  Crokcr  to  make  whatever  use  he  pleased  of  that  edi- 
tion, when  preparing  the  eleventh,  that  of  1831.  The  tenth  was 
an  anonymous  one,  published  at  Oxford  in  1826;  but  this  was 
hardly  more  than  a  handsome  reprint  of  the  earlier  copies. 

Besides  the  materials  accumulated  by  Boswell  himself,  his  intelli- 
gent son,  Malone,  Chalmers,  and  their  various  literary  allies,  Mr. 
Croker's  character  and  station  opened  to  him,  when  preparing 
the  edition  of  1831,  many  new  and  most  interesting  sources  of 
information,  both  manuscript  and  oral.  He  acknowledges,  more 
especially,  in  his  preface,  the  copious  communications  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Hall,  Master  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford, — from  which  he 
was  enabled  to  throw  unexpected  light  on  some  of  the  earlier  chap- 
ters of  Dr.  Johnson's  personal  career;  those  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Har- 
wood,  the  historian  of  Lichfield,  who  procured  for  him,  through 
Mrs.  Pearson,  the  widow  of  the  legatee  of  Miss  Lucy  Porter,  many 
letters  addressed  to  that  lady  by  Dr.  Johnson,  but  for  which 
Boswell  had  inquired  in  vain;  of  Lord  Rokeby,  the  nephew  and  heir 
of  Mrs.  Montagu,  who  placed  Johnson's  correspondence  with  her 


PREFACE.  W 

at  his  disposal;  of  Mr.  Langton,  the  grandson  of  Bennet  Langton, 
who,  iu  like  manner,  opened  his  family  repositories;  of  Mr.  Palmer^ 
grand-nephew  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  contributed,   besides 
various  autograph  letters  and  notes  of  Johnson  to  his  great-aunt. 
Miss  Reynolds,  a  MS.  of  seventy  pages,  written  by  that  lady,  and 
entitled,  "  Recollections  of  Dr.  Johnson ;"     of  Mr.  Markland,  whom 
he  thanks  (as  the  present  Editors  must  again  do)  for  "  a  great  deal 
of  zealous  assistance  and  valuable  information," — including  "a  copy 
of  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Anecdotes,  copiously  annotated,  propria  vianu,  by 
Mr.  Malone  :"  of  Mr.  J.  L.  Anderdon,  for  some  of  the  original 
letters,  memoranda,  and  note-books  used  by  Boswell  when   com- 
posing the  Life  ;  of  the  present  Macleod,  son  of  the  chief  who 
received  Johnson  at  DutfVegan  in  1173,  for  a  curious  autobiographi- 
cal fragment,  written  by  his  father;  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  for  a 
series  of  very  interesting  notes  on  the  "  Tour  to  the  Hebrides ;"  of 
the  venerable  Lord  Stowell,  the  friend  and  executor  of  Johnson,  for 
dictating  some  recollections  of  the  Doctor,  of  which,  although  the 
notes,  by  an  unfortunate  accident,  were  lost,  the  substance  had  not 
escaped  Mr.  Croker's  own  memory;  of  Dr.  Elrington,   the  Lord 
Bishop  of   Ferns;    and,   finally,  of  Mr.  D'Israeli,— the   Marquess 
Wellesley, — the    Marquess    of    Lansdowne, — Lord   Bexley, — Lord 
St.  Helens, — the  late  Earl  Spencer;  and  various  other  distinguished 
persons. 

From  the  Preface  to  Mr.  Croker's  edition  we  shall  now  extract 
those  passages  of  a  more  general  interest,  which  ought  to  be  iu  the 
hands  of  all  those  who  are  to  profit  by  that  gentleman's  ingenuity 
and  research  : 

"  It  were  superfluous  to  expatiate  on  the  merits,  at  least  as  a  source  of  amuse- 
ment, of  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson.  Whatever  doubts  may  have  existed  as 
to  the  prudence  or  the  propriety  of  the  original  publication— however  natu- 
rally private  confidence  was  alarmed,  or  individual  vanity  offended,  the  voices 
of  criticism  and  complaint  were  soon  drowned  in  the  general  applause.    And 

I* 


X  PREFACE, 

no  wonder :  the  work  combines  within  itself  the  four  most  entertaining  classes 
of  writing — biography,  memoirs,  famihar  letters,  and  that  assemblage  of  lite 
rary  anecdotes  which  the  French  have  taught  us  to  distinguish  by  the  termina" 
tion  Ana. 

"  Having  no  domestic  ties  or  duties,  the  latter  portion  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life 
was,  as  Mrs.  Piozzi  observes,  nothing  but  conversation,  and  that  conversation 
was  watched  and  recorded  from  night  to  night  and  from  hour  to  hour  with 
zealous  attention  and  unceasing  diligence.  No  man,  the  most  staid  or  the 
most  guarded,  is  always  the  same  in  health,  in  spirits,  in  opinions.  Human 
life  is  a  series  of  inconsistencies ;  and  when  Johnson's  early  misfortunes,  his 
protracted  poverty,  his  strong  passions,  his  violent  prejudices,  and,  above  all, 
his  mental  infirmities  are  considered,  it  is  only  wonderful  that  a  portrait  so 
laboriously  minute  and  so  painfully  faithful  does  not  exhibit  more  of  blemish, 
incongruity,  and  error. 

"  The  hfe  of  Dr.  Johnson  is  indeed  a  most  curious  chapter  in  the  history  of 
man  ;  for  certainly  there  is  no  instance  of  the  hfe  of  any  other  human  being 
having  been  exhibited  in  so  much  detail,  or  with  so  much  fidelity.  There  are, 
perhaps,  not  many  men  who  have  practised  so  much  solf-examination  as  to 
know  themselves  as  well  as  every  reader  knows  Dr.  Johnson. 

"  We  must  recollect  that  it  is  not  his  table-talk  or  his  literary  conversations 
only  that  have  been  published  ;  all  his  most  private  and  most  trifling  corres- 
pondence— all  his  most  common  as  well  as  his  most  confidential  intercourses — 
all  his  most  secret  communion  with  his  own  conscience — and  even  the  solemn 
and  contrite  exercises  of  his  piety,  have  been  divulged  and  exhibited  to  the 
'  garish  eye '  of  the  world  without  reserve — I  had  almost  said,  without  delicacy. 
Young,  with  gloomy  candour,  has  said 

•Heaven's  Sovereign  saves  all  beings  but  himself 
That  hideous  eight,  a  naked  human  heart.' 

What  a  man  must  Johnson  have  been,  whose  heart,  having  been  laid  more 
bare  than  that  of  any  other  mortal  ever  was,  has  passed  almost  unblemished 
through  so  terrible  an  ordeal! 

"  But  while  we  contemplate  with  such  interest  this  admirable  and  perfect 
vortrait,  let  us  not  forget  the  painter :  pupils  and  imitators  have  added  drape- 
ries and  backgrounds,  but  the  head  and  figure  are  by  Mr.  Boswell. 

"  Mr.  Burke  told  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  that  he  thought  Johnsou  showed 


fREPAcn.  a 

more  powers  of  mind  in  company  than  in  his  writings,  and  on  another  occasion 
eaid,  that  he  thought  Johnson  appeared  greater  in  Mr.  Boswell's  volumes  than 
even  in  nis  own. 

"  It  was  a  strange  and  fortunate  concurrence,  that  one  so  prone  to  talk  and 
who  talked  so  well,  should  be  brought  into  such  close  contact  and  confidence 
With  one  so  zealous  and  so  able  to  record.  Dr.  Johnson  was  a  man  of  extra- 
ordinary powers,  but  Mr.  Boswell  had  qualities,  in  their  own  way,  almost  as 
rare.  He  united  lively  manners  with  indefatigable  diligence,  and  the  volatile 
curiosity  of  a  man  about  town  with  the  drudging  patience  of  a  chronicler.  With 
a  very  good  opinion  of  himself,  he  was  quick  in  discerning,  and  frank  in  applaud- 
ing, the  excellencies  of  others.  Though  proud  of  his  own  name  and  lineage, 
and  amoitious  of  the  countenance  of  the  great,  he  was  yet  so  cordial  an  admirer 
of  merit,  wherever  found,  that  much  public  ridicule,  and  something  like  con- 
tempt, were  excited  by  the  modest  assurance  with  which  he  pressed  his 
acquamtance  on  all  the  notorieties  of  his  time,  and  by  the  ostentatious  (but,  in 
the  main,  laudable)  assiduity  with  which  he  attended  the  exile  Paoli  and  the 
low-born  Johnson  !  These  were  amiable,  and,  for  us,  fortunate  inconsistencies. 
His  contemporaries,  indeed,  not  without  some  colour  of  reason,  occasionally 
complained  of  him  as  vain,  inquisitive,  troublesome,  and  giddy ;  but  his  vanity 
was  inoffensive — his  curiosity  was  commonly  directed  towards  laudable  objects 
— wnen  he  meddled,  he  did  so,  generally,  from  good-natured  motives — and  his 
giddiness  was  only  an  exuberant  gaiety,  which  never  failed  in  the  respect  and 
reverence  due  to  literature,  morals,  and  religion ;  and  posterity  gratefully 
acknowledges  the  taste,  temper,  and  talents  with  which  he  selected,  enjoyed, 
and  described  that  polished  and  intellectual  society  which  still  lives  in  his  work, 
and  without  his  work  had  perished  ! 

•  Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona 
Multi :  sed  oranes  illacrymabilea 
Urgentur,  ignotique  longa 
Nocte,  carent  quia  vate  sacro.'  * 

Sucn  imperfect  though  interesting  sketches  as  Ben  Jonson's  visit  to  Dram- 
mond,  Selden's  Table  Talk,  Swift's  Journal,  and  Spence's  Anecdotes,  only  tAn- 

*  "  Before  great  Agamemnon  reign'd 

Reign'd  kings  as  great  as  he,  and  brave, 
Whose  huge  ambition's  now  contain'd 

In  the  small  compass  of  a  grave;  » 

In  endless  night  they  sleep,  unwept,  unknown ; 
No  bard  had  they  to  make  all  time  their  own."— Pbahcis. 


Sii  PREFACE. 

talize  our  curiosity  and  excite  our  regret  that  there  was  no  Boswell  to  preserve 
tlie  conversation  and  illustrate  the  life  and  times  of  Addison,  of  Swift  himself, 
of  Milton,  and,  above  all,  of  Shakspeare  !  We  can  hardly  refrain  from  indulg- 
ing ourselves  with  the  imagination  of  works  so  instructive  and  delightful ;  hut 
that  were  idle  ;  except  as  it  may  tend  to  increase  our  obligation  to  the  Ai-itpfui 
and  fortunate  biographer  of  Dr.  Johnson. 

"  Mr.  Boswell's  birth  and  education  familiarized  him  with  the  highest  of  hia 
acquaintance,  and  his  good-nature  and  conviviality  with  the  lowest.  He 
describes  society  of  all  classes  with  the  happiest  discrimination.  Even  his 
foibles  assisted  his  curiosity  ;  he  was  sometimes  laughed  at,  but  always  well 
received ;  he  excited  no  envy,  he  imposed  no  restraint.  It  was  well  known 
that  he  made  notes  of  every  conversation,  yet  no  timidity  was  alarmed,  no 
delicacy  demurred ;  and  we  are  perhaps  indebted  to  the  lighter  parts  of  his 
character  for  the  patient  indulgence  with  which  everybody  submitted  to  sit 
for  their  pictures. 

"  Nor  were  bis  talents  inconsiderable.  He  had  looked  a  good  deal  iKto 
books,  and  more  into  the  world.  The  narrative  portion  of  his  work  is  written 
with  good  sense,  in  an  easy  and  perspicuous  style,  and  without  (which  seems 
odd  enough)  any  palpable  imitation  of  Johnson.  But  in  recording  conversa- 
tions he  is  unrivalled  :  that  he  was  eminently  accurate  in  substance,  we  have 
the  evidence  of  all  his  contemporaries  ;  but  he  is  also  in  a  high  degree  charac- 
teristic— dramatic.  The  incidental  observations  with  which  he  explains  or 
enlivens  the  dialogue,  are  terse,  appropriate,  and  picturesque — we  not  merely 
hear  bis  company,  we  see  them  ! 

"  Yet  his  father  was,  we  are  told,  by  no  means  satisfied  with  the  life  he  led, 
xior  his  eldest  son  with  the  kind  of  reputation  he  attained :  neither  liked  to 
hear  of  his  connexion  even  with  Paoli  or  Johnson  ;  and  both  would  have  been 
better  pleased  if  he  had  contented  himself  with  a  domestic  life  of  sober 
respectability. 

"  The  public,  however,  the  dispenser  of  fame,  has  judged  differently,  and 
considers  the  biographer  of  Johnson  as  the  most  eminent  part  of  the  family 
pedigree.  With  less  activity,  less  indiscretion,  less  curiosity,  less  enthusiasm, 
he  might,  perhaps,  have  been  what  the  old  lord  would,  no  doubt,  have  thought 
more  respectable  ;  and  have  been  pictured  on  the  walls  of  Auchinleck  (the 
very  name  of  which  we  never  should  have  heard)  by  some  stiff,  provincial 
painter,  in  a  lawyer's  wig  or  a  squire's  hunting  cap;  but  his  portrait  by  Rey 


PREFACE.  Xiil 

aolds,  would  not  have  been  ten  times  engraved ;  his  name  could  never  have 
Decome — as  it  is  likely  to  be — as  faf  spread  and  as  lasting  as  the  English  lan- 
guage ;  and  '  the  world  had  wanted '  a  work  to  which  it  refers  as  a  manual  of 
amusement,  a  repository  of  wit,  wisdom,  and  morals,  and  a  lively  and  faithful 
history  of  the  manners  and  literature  of  England,  during  a  period  hardly 
second  in  brilliancy,  and  superior  in  importance,  even  to  the  Augustan  age 
of  Anne." 

To  these  masterly  strictures  of  Mr.  Croker  we  now  append  some 
of  the  passages  in  which  other  writers  have  recorded  their  estima- 
tion of  Boswell  ;  concluding  with  a  few  extracts  from  the  periodical 
literature  of  our  own  times. 

Malone. 

"  Highly  as  this  work  is  now  estimated,  it  will,  I  am  confident,  be  still  more 
valued  by  posterity  a  century  hence,  when  the  excellent  and  extraordinary 
man,  whose  wit  and  wisdom  are  here  recorded,  shall  be  viewed  at  a  still 
greater  distance  ;  and  the  instruction  and  entertainment  they  afford  will  at 
once  produce  reverential  gratitude,  admiration,  and  delight." — Preface^  1804 

Sir  William  Forbes. 

"  The  circle  of  Mr.  Boswell's  acquaintance  among  the  learned,  the  witty, 
and,  indeed,  among  men  of  all  ranks  and  professions,  was  extremely  extensive, 
as  his  talents  were  considerable,  and  his  convivial  powers  made  his  company 
much  in  request.  His  warmth  of  hcarf  towards  his  friends  was  very  great ; 
and  I  have  known  few  men  who  possessed  a  stronger  sense  of  piety,  or  more 
fervent  devotion  (tinctured,  no  doubt,  with  some  little  share  of  superstition  ; 
which  had,  probably,  in  some  degree,  been  fostered  by  his  habits  of  intimacy 
with  Dr.  Johnson),  perhaps  not  always  sufficient  to  regulate  his  imagination,  or 
direct  his  conduct,  yet  still  genuine,  and  founded  both  in  his  understanding 
and  his  heart.  His  Life  of  that  extraordinary  man  must  be  allowed  to  be  one 
of  the  most  characteristic  and  entertaining  biographxal  works  in  the  English 
language.'' — lAfc  of  BecUtie,  vol.  ii.,  p.  166. 

Cumberland. 

"  Under  the  hospitable  roof  of  Mr.  Dilly,  the  biographer  of  Johnson  passed 
many  jovial,  joyous  hours :  here  he  has  located  some  of  the  liveliest  ac«'uea 


jaV  PREFACE. 

and  most  brilliant  passages  in  his  entertaining  anecdotes  of  his  friend  Samuel 
Johnfion,  who  yet  lives  and  speaks  in  hita.  The  book  of  Boswell  is,  ever  aa 
the  year  comes  round,  my  winter-evening's  entertainment.  I  loved  the  man* 
he  had  great  convivial  powers,  and  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  good-humour  in 
society ;  nobody  could  detail  the  spirit  of  a  conversation  in  the  true  style  and 
character  of  the  parties  more  happily  than  my  friend  James  Boswell."--- 
Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  22'7. 

Mirrington. 

"  Of  those  who  were  frequently  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  parties;  Mr.  Bos- 
well was  very  acceptable  to  him.  He  was  a  man  of  excellent  temper,  and  with 
much  gaiety  of  manner,  possessed  a  shrewd  understanding,  and  close  observa- 
tion of  character.  He  had  a  happy  faculty  of  dissipating  that  reserve,  which 
too  often  damps  the  pleasure  of  Enghsh  society.  His  good-nature  and  sociai 
feeling  always  incUned  him  to  endeavour  to  produce  that  efiect ;  which  was  so 
well  known,  that  when  he  appeared,  he  was  hailed  as  the  harbinger  of  festivity. 
Sir  Joshua  was  never  more  happy  than  when,  on  such  occasion,  Mr.  Boswell 
was  seated  within  his  hearing.  The  Royal  Society  gratified  Sir  Joshua  by 
electing  Mr.  Boswell  their  Secretary  of  Foreign  Correspondence  ;  which  made 
him  an  Honorary  Member  of  that  body." — Life  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  p.  83. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 

"  Of  all  the  men  distinguished  in  this  or  any  other  age.  Dr.  Johnson  has  lefk 
upon  posterity  the  strongest  and  most  vivid  impression,  so  far  as  person,  man- 
ners, disposition,  and  conversation  are  concerned.  We  do  but  name  him,  or 
open  a  book  which  he  has  written,  and  the  sound  or  action  recall  to  the 
imagination  at  once  his  form,  his  merits,  his  peculiarities,  nay,  the  very 
uncouthness  of  his  gestures,  and  the  deep  impressive  tone  of  his  voice.  We 
learn  not  only  what  he  said,  but  form  an  idea  how  he  said  it ;  and  have,  at  the 
same  time,  a  shrewd  guess  of  the  secret  motive  why  he  did  so,  and  whether 
is  spoke  in  sport  or  in  anger,  in  the  desire  of  conviction,  or  for  the  love  of 
debate.  It  was  said  of  a  noted  wag,  that  his  brn-mots  did  not  give  full  satis- 
faction when  pub  ashed,  because  he  could  not  print  his  face.  But  with  respect 
to  Dr.  Johnson,  this  has  been  in  some  degree  accomplished ;  and,  although 
Vne  greater  part  of  the  present  generation  never  saw  him,  yet  he  is,  in  our 
HJind's  eye,  a  personification  as  lively  as  that  of  Siddons  in  Lady  Macbeth  or 


PREFACK.  XV 

Kemble  in  Cardinal  Wolsey.  All  this,  as  the  world  knows,  arises  from  his 
having  found  in  James  Boswell  such  a  biographer  as  no  man  but  himself  evei 
had,  or  ever  deserved  to  have.  Considering  the  eminent  persons  to  whom  it 
relates,  and  the  quantity  of  miscellaneous  information  and  entertaining  gossip 
which  it  brings  together,  his  Life  of  Johnson  may  be  termed,  without  excep- 
tion, the  best  parlour-window  book  that  ever  was  written." — Miscellaneout 
Prose  Workx,  vol.  i.,  p.  260. 

Edinburgh  Review. 

"  Boswell  was  the  very  prince  of  retail  wits  and  philosophers.  One  princi 
pal  attraction  of  his  Life  of  Johnson  is  the  contrast  which,  in  some  respects, 
it  presents  to  the  Doctor's  own  works.  Instead  of  the  pompous  common 
places  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  piling  together  and  rounding  into  periodf 
in  his  closet,  his  behaviour  and  conversation  in  company  might  be  described 
as  a  continued  exercise  of  spleen,  an  indulgence  of  irritable  humours,  a  mas- 
terly display  of  character.  He  made  none  but  home-thrusts,  but  desperate 
lounges,  but  palpable  hits.  No  turgidity ;  no  flaccidness ;  no  bloated  flesh  : 
all  was  muscular  strength  and  agility.  It  wag  this  vigorous  and  voluntary  ex- 
ercise of  his  faculties,  when  freed  from  all  restraint,  in  the  intercourse  of  pri- 
vate society,  that  has  left  such  a  rich  harvest  for  his  Biographer ;  and  it  can- 
not be  denied  that  it  has  been  well  and  carefully  got  in.  Other  works  furnish 
us  with  curious  particulars,  but  minute  and  disjointed  : — they  want  picturesque 
grouping  and  dramatic  eflFect.  We  have  the  opinions  and  sayings  of  eminent 
men :  but  they  do  not  grow  out  of  the  occasion :  we  do  not  know  at  whose 
house  such  a  thing  happened,  nor  the  effect  it  had  on  those  who  were  present. 
We  have  good  things  served  up  in  sandwiches,  but  we  do  not  sit  down,  as  in 
Boswell,  to  '  an  ordinary  of  fine  discourse.'  There  is  no  eating  and  drinking 
going  on.  We  have  nothing  like  Wilkes's  plying  Johnson  with  the  best  bits 
at  Billy's  table,  and  overcoming  his  Tory  prejudices  by  the  good  things  he 
offered  and  the  good  things  he  said ;  nor  does  any  Goldsmith  drop  in  after  tea 
with  his  peach-coloured  coat,  like  one  dropped  from  the  clouds,  bewildered, 
witb  his  finery  and  the  success  of  a  new  work," — No.  Ixvi.     1820. 

"The  'Life  of  Johnson'  is  one  of  the  best  books  in  the  world.  It  is  aa- 
Buredly  a  great,  a  very  great,  work.  Homer  is  not  more  decidedly  the  first  of 
heroic  poets, — Shakspeare  is  not  more  decidedly  the  first  of  dramatists,— 


Xvi  PREFACE. 

Demosthenes  is  not  more  decidedly  the  first  of  orators,  than  Boswell  is  the 
first  of  biographers.  He  has  distanced  all  his  competitors  so  decidedly,  that 
;t  is  not  worth  while  to  place  them :  Eclipse  is  first,  and  the  rest  nowhere. 
We  are  not  sure  that  there  is  in  the  whole  history  of  the  human  intellect  so 
singular  a  phenomenon  as  this  book.  Many  of  the  greatest  men  that  ever 
lived  have  written  biography — Boswell  has  beaten  them  all.  This  book  re- 
sembles nothing  so  much  as  the  conversation  of  the  inmates  of  the  Palace  of 
Truth."— No.  cxii.    1832. 

Quarterly  Review, 

**  Our  vivacious  neighbours,  more  fond  of  talk,  found  a  pleasure,  when 
iilent,  in  writing  down  the  talk  of  others,  even  to  their  Arlequiniana,  for 
Harlequin  too  must  talk  in  France.  Of  their  flock,  the  bell-weather  is  the 
Menagiana.  Yet  the  four  volumes  are  eclipsed  by  the  singular  splendour  of 
Boswell's  Johnson.  All  other  Ana  are  usually  confined  to  a  single  person, 
and  chiefly  run  on  the  particular  subject  connected  with  that  person  ;  but 
Boswell's  is  the  Ana  of  all  mankind ;  nor  can  the  world  speedily  hope  to  re- 
ceive a  similar  gift ;  for  it  is  scarcely  more  practicable  to  find  another  Boswell 
than  another  Johnson." — No.  xlvi.     1820. 

"  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  is,  we  suspect,  the  richest  dictionary  of  wit  and 
wisdom  any  language  can  boast.  Even  if  it  were  possible  to  consider  his  de- 
lineation of  Johnson  merely  as  a  character  in  a  novel  of  the  period,  the  world 
would  have  owed  him,  and  acknowledged,  no  trival  obligation.  But  what  can 
the  best  character  in  any  novel  ever  be,  compared  to  a  full-length  of  the  reality 
of  genius ;  and  what  specimen  of  such  reality  will  ever  surpass  the  •  Omni3 
votiva  veluti  depicta  tabella  Vita  Senis?' — the  first,  and  as  yet  by  far  the 
most  complete  picture  of  the  whole  life  and  conversation  of  one  of  that  rare 
order  of  beings,  the  rarest,  the  most  influential  of  all,  whose  mere  genius  en- 
titles and  enables  them  to  act  as  great  independent  controlling  powers  upon  the" 
general  tone  of  thought  and  feeling  of  their  kind,  and  invests  the  very  soil 
where  it  can  be  shown  they  ever  set  foot,  with  a  living  and  sacred  charm  of 
interest,  years  and  ages  after  the  loftiest  of  the  contemporaries,  that  did  or 
did  not  condescend  to  notice  them,  shall  be  as  much  forgotten  as  if  they  had 
never  strutted  their  hour  on  the  glittering  stage  ?  Boswell's  •  Johnson'  is, 
without  doubt, — excepting,  yet  hardly  excepting,  a  few  immortal  monnmenta 
of  creative  genius,— that  English  book  which,  were  this  island  to  be  sunk  to- 


rREFACK.  xvii 

morrow,  with  all  that  it  inhabits,  would  be  most  prized  in  other  days  ani 
countries,  by  the  students  '  of  us  and  of  our  history.'  To  the  influence  of 
Bosweli's  we  owe,  probably  three  fourths  of  what  is  most  entertaining,  as  well 
as  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  whatever  is  most  instructive,  in  all  the  booka 
of  memoirs  that  have  subsequently  appeared." — No.  xci.     1832. 

In  this  edition  will  be  found  some  Notices  of  Michael  Johnson, 
father  of  tie  boctor ;  and  the  whole  of  tne  extraordinary  Frag- 
ment, first  published  in  1805,  under  the  title  of  "  An  Account  of 
the  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  from  his  Birth  to  his  Eleventh 
Year,  written  by  Himself." 


r 


CONTENTS    OF    VOL.    I. 


CHAPTER    I. 

1709—1716. 


Introduction — Johnson's  Birth  and  Parentage — He  inherits  from  his  Father  "  a  vile  Melan 
choly  " — His  account  of  the  Members  of  his  Family — Traditional  Stories  of  his  Precocity — 
Taken  to  London  to  be  touched  by  Queen  Anne  for  the  Scrofula,  .  .  .26 


CHAPTER    II. 

1716—1728. 

Johnson  goes  to  School  at  Lichfield — Particulars  of  his  boyish  days — Removed  to  the  School 
of  Stourbridge — Specimens  of  his  School  Exercises  and  early  Verses — He  leaves  Stour 
bridge,  and  passes  two  years  with  his  Father,         ......     41 


CHAPTER    III. 

1723—1731. 

Enters  at  Pembroke  College,  Oxford — His  College  Life — The  "  Morbid  Melancholy  "  lurking 
In  his  Constitution  gains  strength— Translates  Pope's  Messiah  into  Latin  Verse — His  Course 
of  Reading  at  Oxford— Quits  College,  .......64 


CHAPTER    IV. 

1731—1736. 

Johnson  leaves  Oxford— Death  of  his  Father — Mr.  Oilbert  Walmesley— Captain  Garrlck — 
Mrs.  Hill  Boothby — "  Molly  Aston" — Johnson  becomes  Usher  of  Market-Bosworth  School — 
Removes  to  Birmingham — Translates  Lobo's  Voyages  to  Abyssinia — Returns  to  Lichfield — 
Proposes  to  print  the  Latin  Poems  of  Politian — Offers  to  write  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 
— His  juvenile  Attachments — Marries — Opens  a  private  Academy  at  Edial — David  Garr'ck 
Ub  Pupil — Commences  "  Irene,"  .......  TO 

Six 


TX  CONTENTS   OF  VOL.  I. 

CHAPTER    V. 

1737—1738. 

Johnson  gojg  to  London  with  David  Garriclc — Talces  Lodgings  in  Exeter  Street — Retires  to 
Greenwich,  and  proceeds  with  "  Irene  " — Projects  a  Translation  of  the  History  of  the 
Council  of  Trent — Returns  to  Lichiltid,  and  finishes  "  Irene  " — Removes  to  London  with  his 
Wife — Becomes  a  Writer  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,        .  .  .  .  .89 

CHAPTER    VI. 

1738—1741. 

Johnson  publishes  "  London,  a  Poem" — Letters  to  Cave  relating  thereto— Endeavours,  with- 
out Success,  to  obtain  the  Degree  of  Master  of  Arts — Recommended  by  Pope  to  Earl  Gower 
— The  Earl's  Letter  on  his  Behalf — Begins  a  Translation  of  Father  Paul  Sarpi's  History — 
Publishes  "  A  Complete  VindicEt'iot  of  the  Licensers  of  the  Stage,"  and  "  Marmor  Norfol- 
ciense" — Pope's  Note  to  Richardson  concerning  him — Characteristic  Anecdotes — Writes  the 
Debates  in  Parliament,  under  the  Dbguise  of  "  the  Senate  of  Lilliput,"  •  .    102 

CHAPTER    VII. 

1741—1744. 

Jonnson  finishes  "  Irene  " — Writes  "  Essay  on  the  Account  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Duchess  of 
Marlborough  " — Lives  of  Burman  and  Sydenham — "  Proposals  for  printing  Bibliotheca 
Harleiana" — Projects  a  History  of  Parliament — Writes  "  Considerations  on  the  Dispute 
between  Crousaz  and  Warburton,  on  "  Pope's  Essay  on  Man  " — "  Dedication  to  James's 
Dictionary  " — "  Friendship,  an  Ode  " — His  extreme  Indigence  at  this  Time — His  Acquaint- 
ance with  Savage — Anecdotes — Publishes  "  The  Life  of  Richard  Savage  " — Case  of  the 
Countess  of  Macclesfield — Writes  "  Preface  to  the  Harleian  Miscellany,"  .  .    128 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

1745—1749. 

Miscellaneous  Observations  on  Macbeth,"  and  "Proposals  for  a  new  Edition  of  Shakspeare" 
— "  Prologue,  spoken  by  Garrick,  on  the  opening  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  " — Prospectus  of 
the  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language — Progress  of  the  Work— Kink's  Head  Club  in  Ivy 
Lane — Visit  to  Tunbridge  Wells — "Life  of  Roscommon" — "Preface  to  Dodsley's  Precep- 
tor"— "Vision  of  Theodore  the  Hermit" — "The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes" — "Irene" 
acted  at  Drury  Lane,    ;  .  .  .  •  •  «  >  •.    146 

CHAPTER    IX.     . 

1750—1751. 

Johnson  begins  "The  Rambler" — His  Prayer  on  commencing  the  Undertaking — Obligation! 
to  Correspondents — Adversaria — Success  of  the  Rambler — Collected  into  Volumes — 
"Beauties"  of  the  Rambler — Writes  a  Prologue,  to  be  spoken  by  Garrick,  fcr  the  Benefit 
of  Milton's  Grand-daughter — "Life  of  Cheynel" — Lauder's  Forgery  against  Milton — 
Mrs.  Anna  Williams,     ..........    169 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL.  I.  XlA 

CHAPTER    X. 
1752—1753. 

Progress  of  the  Dictionary— Conclusion  of  tlie  Rambler — Death  of  Mrs.  Johnson— Prayer  on 
that  Occasion— Inscription— Epitaph— Francis  Barber— Robert  Levett — Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
— Bennet  Langton — Topham  Beaucleric — Johnson  assists  Hawlcesworth  in  "  The  Adven- 
turer,"— Mrs.  Charlotte  Lennox,       ..,..,..    192 


CHAPTER    XT. 

1754. 

Johnson  writes  the  "  Life  of  Cave  "—The  Dictionary— Lord  Chesterfield— His  alleged  Neglect 
of  Johnson — His  Papers  in  "  The  World,"  in  Recommendation  of  the  Dictionary — Letter  to 
the  Earl— Bolingbrol^e'a  Works  edited  by  Mallet — Johnson  visits  Oxford  for  the  purpose  of 
consulting  the  Libraries — His  Conversations  with  Mr.  Warton,  Mr.  Wise,  and  others — Sir 
Robert  Chambers — Letters  to  Warton — Collins,       ......    213 


CHAPTER    XII. 

1755—1758. 

Johnson  receives  the  Degree  of  M.  A.  by  Diploma — Correspondence  with  Warton  and  tne  an- 
tliorities  of  the  University  of  Oxford — Publication  of  the  Dictionary  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage— Remarlcable  Definitions — Abridgment  of  the  Dictionary — The  Universal  Visiter — 
The  Literary  Magazine — Defence  of  Tea — Pulpit  Discourses — Proposals  for  an  Edition  of 
Shakspeare — Jonas  Hanway — Soame  Jenyns — Charles  Burney,    .  .  .  .    228 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

1758—1769. 

'The  Idler — Letters  to  Warton — Letters  to  Bennet  Langton — Illness  of  Johnson's  Mother- 
Letters  to  her,  and  to  Miss  Porter — His  Mother's  Death — "  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia  " 
—Miscellanies — Excursion  to  Oxford — Francis  Barber — John  Wilkes — Smollett — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Montagu — Mrs.  Ogle — Myine  the  Architect,      ......    267 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

1760—1763. 

Miscellaneous  Essays — Origin  of  Johnson's  Acquaintance  with  Murphy— Akenslde  and  Rolt— 
Mackenzie  and  Eccles — Letters  to  Barettl — Painting  and  Music— Sir  George  Staunton — 
Letter  to  a  Lady  soliciting  Church  Preferment  for  her  Son— The  King  confers  on  Johnson  a 
Pension  of  £300  a  Year— Letters  to  Lord  Bute— Visit  to  Devonshire,  with  Sir  Joshua  Rey 
lold»— Character  of  Collins- Dedication  of  Hoole's  Tasso,  .  .  .    88( 


liU  CONTENTS    OF   VOL.  1. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

1763. 

Boswell  beo>rs^  acquainted  with  Johnson— Derrick — Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan — Mrs.  Sheridan-*- 
Mr.  Thomas  Davies— Mrs.  Davies — First  Interview — His  Dress — Johnson's  Chambers  ia 
Templ(>  Lane— Dr.  Blair— Dr.  James  Fordyce — Ossian — Christopher  Smart— Thomas  John- 
son, the  Equestrian— Clifton's  Eating  House — The  Mitre— Colley  Cibber's  Odes— Gray — 
Belief  in  the  Appearance  of  departed  Spirits— Churchill — Cock-Lane  Ghost — Goldsmith — 
MaUet's  "  Elvira  "—Scotch  Landlords— Plan  of  Study, 809 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

1763. 

firaham's  "  Telemachus,  a  Mask" — Dr.  Oliver  Goldsmith — Dr.  John  Campbell — "  Hermippus 
Redivivus  " — Churchill's  Poetry — Bonnell  Thornton — "  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day" — The  Con- 
noisseur— The  World— Miss  Williams's  Tea  Parties — Anecdotes  of  Goldsmith,  .  .    829 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

1763, 

>widon — Miss  Porter's  Legacy — Boswell  and  his  Landlord — Suppers  at  the  Mitre — "  The  King 
can  do  no  Wrong  " — Historical  Composition — Bayle — Arbuthnot — The  noblest  Prospect  in 
Scotland — Jacobitism — Lord  Hailes — Keeping  a  Journal — The  King  of  Prussia's  Poetry — 
Johnson's  Library — "  Not  at  Home  " — Pity — Style  of  Hume — Inequality  of  Mankind — 
Constitutional  Goodness — Miracles — Acquaintance  of  Young  People— Hard  Reading — Mel- 
ancholy— Mrs.  Macaulay — Warton's  Essay  on  Pope — Sir  James  Macdonald — Projected 
Tour  to  the  Hebrides — School-boy  Happiness,  ......    887 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 
1763. 

Table-Talk — Influence  of  the  Weather — Swift — Thomson — Burke — Sheridan — Evidences  of 
Christianity — Derrick — Day  at  Greenwich — The  Methodists — Johnson's  "  Walk  " — The  Con- 
vocation— Blacklock — Johnson  accompanies  Boswell  to  Harwich — The  Journey — "  Good 
Eating  " — "  Abstinence  and  Temperance  " — Johnson's  favourite  Dishes — Bishop  Berkeley 
"  refuted  "—Burke— Boswell  sails  for  Holland,       ,  .        *  .  .  .  .    860 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

1763—1765. 

Boawell  at  Utrecht -Letter  from  Johnson— The  Frisick  Language — Johnson's  Visit  to  Lang 
ton — Institution  of  "  The  Club  " — Pveynolds — Garrick — Dr.  Nugent — Granger's  "  Sugat 
Cane  " — Hypochondriac  Attack — Days  of  Abstraction — Odd  Habits — Visit  to  Dr.  Percy — • 
Letter  to  Reynolds — Visit  to  Cambridge — Self-examination — Letter  to,  and  from,  Garrick— 
Johnson  created  LL.D.  by  Dublin  University — Letter  to  Dr.  Leland — Prayer  on  "  Engaging 
la  Politics  "—William  Gerard  Hamilton,       .......   '871 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL.  I.  XXUi 

CHAPTER    XX.- 

1765—1766. 

icqualntance  with  t>.e  Thrales— Publication  of  the  Edition  of  Shakspeare—Kenrick— Letter  to 
Boswell — Boswell  returns  to  England — Voltaire  on  Pope  and  Dryden — Goldsmith's  "  Tra- 
veller," and  "  Deserted  Village  " — Suppers  at  the  Mitre  resumed — "  Equal  Happiness  "— 
"  Courting  great  Men  " — Convents— Second  Sight — Corsica — Rousseau — Subordination— 
"  Making  Verses  " — Letters  to  Langton,        .......    894 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

1765—1767. 

Boswell'a  Thesis — Study  of  the  Law — Rash  Vows — Streathan  —Oxford — London  Improve- 
ments— Dedications — Mrs.  Williams's  Miscellanies — Mr.  AVilliam  Drummond — Translation  of 
the  Bible  into  the  Gaelic — Case  of  Heely— Dr.  Robertson— Cuthbert  Shaw—"  Tom  Hervey  " 
— Johnson's  Interview  with  King  George  III. — Warburton  and  Lowth — Lord  Lyttelton'a 
History — Dr.  Hill — Literary  Journals — Visit  to  Lichfield— Death  of  Catherine  Chambers^ 
Lexiphanes— Mrs.  Aston,        ........  .    418 

CHAPTER     XXII. 

1768. 

Btate  of  Johnson's  Mind— Visit  to  Town-mailing — Prologue  to  Goldsmith's  "  Good-natured 
Man  " — Boswell  publishes  his  "  Account  of  Corsica  " — Practice  of  the  Law — Novels  and 
Comedies — The  Douglas  Cause — Reading  MSS. — St.  Kilda — Oxford — Guthrie — Hume — 
Robertson— Future  Life  of  Brutes— Scorpions — Maupertuis— Woodcocks— Swallows — Bell's 
Travels— Chastity— Choice  of  a  Wife — Baretti's  Itnly— Liberty— Kenrick— Thomson — 
Mousey — Swift — Lord  Eglingtoune— Letter  on  the  Formation  of  a  Library— Boswell  at  tlie 
Stratford  Jubilee— Johnson's  Opinion  of  the  "  Account  of  Corsica,"       .  .  ,    438 


APPENDIX. 

Ko.  I. — Skb  Note  dm  Paqb         .....••  ciSS 

IL — Dr.  Johnson's  Account  op  his  Own  Eaklt  Lifb,  .  .  •  •    «flT 

HL— List  or  the  Members  or  thb  "Liisbabt  Clui,"  .  .         •  .  .    4M 


TO 
SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 

mr   DEAR   SIR, 

Evert  liberal  motive  that  can  actuate  an  author  in  the  dedication 
of  his  labours,  concurs  in  directing;  me  to  you,  as  the  person  to 
whom  the  following  Work  should  be  inscribed. 

K  there  be  a  pleasure  in  celebrating  the  distinguished  merit  of  a 
contemporary,  mixed  with  a  certain  degree  of  vanity  not  altogether 
inexcusable,  in  appearing  fully  sensible  of  it,  where  can  I  find  one, 
in  complimenting  whom  I  can  with  more  general  approbation 
gratify  those  feelings  ?  Your  excellence,  not  only  in  the  Art  over 
which  you  have  long  presided  with  unrivalled  fame,  but  also  in 
Philosophy  and  elegant  Literature,  is  well  known  to  the  present, 
and  will  continue  to  be  the  admiration  of  future  ages.  Your  equal 
and  placid  temper,  your  variety  of  conversation,  your  true  polite- 
ness, by  which  you  are  so  amiable  in  private  society,  and  that 
enlarged  hospitality  which  has  long  made  your  house  a  common 
centre  of  union  for  the  great,  the  accomplished,  the  learned,  and 
the  ingenious;  all  these  qualities  I  can,  in  perfect  confidence  of  not 
being  accused  of  flattery,  ascribe  to  you. 

If  a  man  may  indulge  an  honest  pride,  in  having  it  known  to  the 

world,  that  he  has  been  thought  worthy  of  particular  attention  by 

ft  person  of  the  first  eminence  in  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  whose 

company  has  been  universally  courted,  I  am  justified  in  availing 

VOL.  I.  2  "▼ 


tXvi  TO    SIR   JOSHUA   REYNOLDS. 

myself  of  the  usual  privilege  of  a  Dedication,  when  1  mention  that 
there  has  been  a  long  and  uninterrupted  friendship  between  us. 

If  gratitude  should  be  acknowledged  for  favours  received,  I  have 
this  opportunity,  my  dear  Sir,  most  sincerely  to  thank  you  for  the 
many  happy  hours  which  I  owe  to  your  kindness, — for  the  cordiality 
with  which  you  have  at  all  times  been  pleased  to  welcome  me, — for 
the  number  of  valuable  acquaintances  to  whom  you  have  introduced 
me, — for  the  nodes  cosncBqtie  Deum,  which  I  have  enjoyed  under  your 
roof. 

If  a  work  should  be  inscribed  to  one  who  is  master  of  the  sub- 
ject of  it,  and  whose  approbation,  therefore,  must  insure  it  credit 
and  success,  the  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson  is,  with  the  greatest  propriety, 
dedicated  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  was  the  intimate  and  beloved 
friend  of  that  great  man;  the  friend,  whom  he  declared  to  be  "  the 
most  invulnerable  man  he  knew;  whom,  if  he  should  quarrel  with 
him,  he  should  find  the  most  difficulty  how  to  abuse."  You,  my 
dear  Sir,  studied  him,  and  knew  him  well  :  you  venerated  and 
admired  him.  Yet,  luminous  as  he  was  upon  the  whole,  you  per- 
ceived all  the  shades  which  mingled  in  the  grand  composition ;  all 
the  little  peculiarities  and  slight  blemishes  which  marked  the  lite- 
rary Colossus.  Your  very  warm  commendation  of  the  specimen 
which  I  gave  in  my  "Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  of  my 
being  able  to  preserve  his  conversation  in  an  authentic  and  lively 
manner,  which  opinion  the  public  has  confirmed,  was  the  best  en- 
couragement for  me  to  persevere  in  my  purpose  of  producing  the 
whole  of  my  stores. 

In  one  respect,  this  Work  will,  in  some  passages,  be  different  f-om 
the  former.  In  my  "  Tour,"  I  was  almost  unboundedly  open  in  my 
communications,  and  from  my  eagerness  to  display  the  wonderful 
fertility  and  readiness  of  Johnson's  wit,  freely  showed  to  the  world  its 
dexterity,  even  when  I  was  myself  the  object  of  it.     I  trusted  that 


TO    SIR    JOSHUA    REYNOLDS.  XXvii 

I  should  be  liberally  understood,  as  knowing  very  well  what  I  was 
about,  and  by  no  means  as  simply  unconscious  of  the  pointed  effects 
of  the  satire.  I  own,  indeed,  that  I  was  aiTogant  enough  to  suppose 
that  the  tenor  of  the  rest  of  the  book  would  sufficiently  guard  me 
against  such  a  strange  imputation.  But  it  seems  J  judged  too  well 
of  the  world;  for,  though  I  could  scarcely  believe  it,  I  have  been 
undoubtedly  informed,  that  many  persons,  especially  in  distant  quar- 
ters, not  penetrating  enough  into  Johnson's  character,  so  as  to 
understand  his  mode  of  treating  his  friends,  have  arraigned  my 
judgment,  instead  of  seeing  that  I  was  sensible  of  all  that  they 
could  observe. 

It  is  related  of  the  great  Dr.  Clarke,  that  when  in  one  of  his 
leisure  hours  he  was  unbending  himself  with  a  few  friends  in  the 
most  playful  and  frolicksome  manner,  he  observed  Beau  Nash 
approaching;  upon  which  he  suddenly  stopped; — "My  boys,"  said 
he,  "  let  us  be  grave  :  here  comes  a  fool."  The  world,  my  friend,  I 
have  found  to  be  a  great  fool,  as  to  that  particular  on  which  it  has 
become  necessary  to  speak  very  plainly.  I  have,  therefore,  in  this 
Work  been  mOre  reserved;  and  though  I  tell  nothing  but  the  truth, 
I  have  still  kept  in  my  mind  that  the  whole  truth  is  not  always  to 
be  exposed.  This,  however,  I  have  managed  so  as  to  occasion  no 
diminution  of  the  pleasure  which  my  book  should  afford  ;  though 
malignity  may  sometimes  be  disappointed  of  its  gratifications 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Your  much  obliged  friend, 

And  faithful  humble  servant, 

James  Boswkll. 

London,  AprU  20, 179t 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE  FIRST  EDinON. 


I  AT  last  deliver  to  the  world  a  Work  which  I  have  long  promised, 
and  of  which,  I  am  afraid,  too  high  expectations  have  been  raised. 
The  delay  of  its  publication  must  be  imputed,  in  a  considerable  de- 
gree, to  the  extraordinary  zeal  which  has  been  shown  by  distin- 
guished persons  in  all  quarters  to  supply  me  with  additional  infor- 
mation concerning  its  illustrious  subject  ;  resembling  in  this  the 
grateful  tribes  of  ancient  nations,  of  which  every  individual  was 
eager  to  throw  a  stone  upon  the  grave  of  a  departed  hero,  and  thus 
to  share  in  the  pious  office  of  erecting  an  honourable  monument  to 
his  memory. 

The  labour  and  anxious  attention  with  which  I  have  collected  and 
arranged  the  materials  of  which  these  volumes  are  composed,  will 
hardly  be  conceived  by  those  who  read  them  with  careless  facility. 
The  stretch  of  mind  and  prompt  assiduity  by  which  so  many  con- 
versations were  preserved,  I  myself,  at  some  distance  of  time,  con- 
template with  wonder  ;  and  I  must  be  allowed  to  suggest,  that  the 
nature  of  the  work,  in  other  respects,  as  it  consists  of  innumerable 
detached  particulars,  all  which,  even  the  most  minute,  I  have  spared 
no  pains  to  ascertain  with  a  scrupulous  authenticity,  has  occasioned 
a  degree  of  trouble  far  beyond  that  of  any  other  species  of  compo- 


XXX  ADVERTISEMENT   TO    THE    FIRST    EDITION. 

Bition.  Were  I  to  detail  the  books  which  I  have  consulted,  and  the 
inquiries  which  I  have  found  it  necessary  to  make  by  various  chan- 
nels, I  should  probably  be  thought  ridiculously  ostentatious.  Let 
me  only  observe,  as  a  specimen  of  my  trouble,  that  I  have  some- 
times been  obliged  to  run  half  over  London,  in  order  to  fix  a  date 
correctly  ;  which,  when  I  had  accomplished,  I  well  knew  would  ob- 
tain me  no  praise,  though  a  failure  would  have  been  to  my  discredit 
And  after  all,  perhaps,  hard  as  it  may  be,  I  shall  not  be  surprised 
if  omissions  or  mistakes  be  pointed  out  with  invidious  severity.  I 
have  also  been  extremely  careful  as  to  the  exactness  of  my  quota- 
tions ;  holding  that  there  is  a  respect  due  to  the  public,  which 
should  oblige  every  author  to  attend  to  this,  and  never  presume  to 
introduce  them  with, — "  I  think  I  have  read  ;"  or,  "  If  I  remember 
right,"  when  the  originals  may  be  examined. 

I  beg  leave  to  express  my  warmest  thanks  to  those  who  have 
been  pleased  to  favour  me  with  communications  and  advice  in  the 
conduct  of  my  Work,  But  I  cannot  sufficiently  acknowledge  my 
obligations  to  my  friend  Mr.  Maloue,*  who  was  so  good  as  to  allow 
me  to  read  to  him  almost  the  whole  of  my  manuscript,  and  make 
such  remarks  as  were  greatly  for  the  advantage  of  the  Work  ; 
though  it  is  but  fair  to  him  to  mention,  that  upon  many  occasions  I 
differed  from  him,  and  followed  my  own  judgment.  I  regret  ex- 
ceedingly that  I  was  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  his  revision,  when 
not  more  than  one  half  the  book  had  passed  through  the  press  ■,  but 
after  having  completed  his  very  laborious  and  admirable  edition  of 
Shakspeake,  for  which  he  generously  would  accept  of  no  other  re- 
ward but  that  fame  which  he  has  so  deservedly  obtained,  he  fulfilled 

■  "  Mr.  Malone's  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Boswell  commenced  in  1T85,  when,  happening  acci- 
dentally, at  Mr.  Baldwin's  printing-house,  to  be  shown  a  sheet  of  the  '  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,' 
which  contained  Johnson's  character,  he  was  so  much  struck  with  the  spirit  and  fidelity  of  the 
portrait,  that  he  requested  to  be  introduced  to  the  writer.  From  this  period  a  friendship  took 
place  between  them*  which  lipened  into  the  strictest  and  most  cordial  intimacy,  and  lasted, 
without  interruption,  as  long  as  Mr.  Boswell  lived." — Memoirs  of  Malone,  by  J.  BosweH 
junior,  p.  19, 


ADVERTISEMEXT    TO    THE    FIRST    EDITION.  SXX\ 

his  promise  of  a  long-wished  for  visit  to  his  relations  in  Ireland  ; 
from  whence  his  safe  retnrn  finihus  Atticis  is  desired  by  his  friends 
here,  with  all  the  classical  ardour  of  Sic  te  Diva  potens  Cypri ;  for 
there  is  no  man  in  whom  more  elegant  and  worthy  qualities  are 
united  ;  and  whose  society,  therefore,  is  more  valued  by  those  who 
know  him. 

It  is  painful  to  me  to  think,  that  while  I  was  carrying  on  this 
"Work,  several  of  those  to  whom  it  would  have  been  most  interesting 
have  died.  Such  melancholy  disappointments  we  know  to  be  inci- 
dent to  humanity  ;  but  we  do  not  feel  them  the  less.  Let  me  par- 
ticularly lament  the  Keverend  Thomas  Warton,  and  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Adams.'  Mr.  Warton,  amidst  his  variety  of  genius  and  learn- 
ing, was  an  excellent  biographer.  His  contributions  to  my  collec- 
tion are  highly  estimable  ;  and  as  he  had  a  true  relish  of  my  "  Tour 
to  the  Hebrides,"  I  trust  I  should  now  have  been  gratified  with  a 
larger  share  of  his  kind  approbation.  Dr.  Adams,  eminent  as  the 
Head  of  a  College,  as  a  writer,  and  as  a  most  amiable  man,  had 
know  Johnson  from  his  early  years,  and  was  his  friend  through  life. 
What  reason  I  had  to  hope  for  the  countenance  of  that  venerable 
gentleman  to  this  Work,  will  appear  from  what  he  wrote  to  me 
upon  a  former  occasion  from  Oxford,  November  IT,  1185  : — "  Dear 
Sir,  I  hazard  this  letter,  not  knowing  where  it  will  find  you,  to  thank 
you  for  your  very  agreeable  '  Tour,'  which  I  found  here  on  my  re- 
turn from  the  country,  and  in  which  you  have  depicted  our  friend 
so  perfectly  to  my  fancy,  in  every  attitude,  every  scene  and  situa- 
tion, that  I  have  thought  myself  in  the  company,  and  of  the  party 
almost  throughout.  It  has  given  very  general  satisfaction  ;  and  those 
who  found  most  fault  with  a  passage  here  and  there,  have  agreed 
that  they  could  not  help  going  through,  and  being  entertained  with 


'  Dr.  Thomas  Warton,  the  historian  of  English  poetry,  died  May  21, 1790,  aged  63.    Ih, 
Adams  died  Jan.  13,  1TS9,  aged  S^ 


XXXU  ADVERTISEMENT  TO   TflE   FIRST   EDITION. 

the  whole.  I  wish,  indeed,  some  few  gross  expressions  had  been 
softened,  and  a  few  of  our  hero's  foibles  had  been  a  little  more 
shaded  ;  but  it  is  useful  to  see  the  weaknesses  incident  to  great 
minds  ;  and  you  have  given  us  Dr.  Johnson's  authority  that  in 
history  all  ought  to  be  told." 

Such  a  sanction  to  my  faculty  of  giving  a  just  representation  of 
Dr.  Johnson  I  could  not  conceal.  Nor  will  I  suppress  my  satisfac- 
tion in  the  consciousness,  that  by  recording  so  considerable  a  por- 
tion of  the  wisdom  and  wit  of  "the  brightest  ornament  of  the 
eighteenth  century," '  I  have  largely  provided  for  the  instruction 
and  entertainment  of  mankind. 

tocdon,  April  20, 1T91. 

>  gee  Mr.  Malone's  preface  to  Ms  edition  of  Sluiksp«wa 


ADVERTISEMEKl  TO  THE  SECOND  ELITIOK 


That  I  was  anxious  for  the  success  of  a  Work  which  bad 
employed  much  of  my  time  and  labour,  I  do  not  wish  to  conceal : 
but  whatever  doubts  I  at  any  time  entertained,  have  been  entirely 
removed  by  the  very  favourable  reception  with  which  it  has  been 
honoured.  That  reception  has  excited  my  best  exertions  to  render 
my  Book  more  perfect  ;  and  in  this  endeavour  I  have  had  the  assis- 
tance not  only  of  some  of  my  particular  friends,  but  of  many  other 
learned  and  ingenious  men,  by  which  I  have  been  enabled  to  rectify 
some  mistakes,  and  to  enrich  the  Work  with  many  valuable  addi- 
tions. These  I  have  ordered  to  be  printed  separately  in  quarto,  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  purchasers  of  the  first  edition.  May  I  be 
permitted  to  say,  that  the  typography  of  both  editions  does  honour 
to  the  press  of  Mr.  Henry  Baldwin,  now  master  of  the  Worshipful 
Company  of  Stationers,  whom  I  have  long  known  a  worthy  man 
and  an  obliging  friend.' 

In  the  strangely  mixed  scenes  of  human  existence,  our  feelings  ai'e 
often  at  once  pleasing  and  painful.     Of  this  truth,  the  progress  of 

'  Mr.  Henry  Baldwin  died,  at  Richmond,  Feb.  21, 1813.  Connected  with  a  phalanx  of  the 
flrst-rate  wits,  Bonnel  Thornton,  Garrick,  Colraan,  Steevens,  &c.,  he  set  up,  with  the  success 
It  so  well  deserved,  a  literary  newspaper, '  The  St.  James's  Chronicle,'  and  brought  it  to  a 
Height  of  literary  eminence  till  then  unknown. — Nichols. 

.  9i;  xxxiii 


XXX17  ADVERTISEMENT   TO   THE    SECOND   EDITION". 

the  present  Work  furnishes  a  striking  instance.  It  was  highly 
gratifying  to  me  that  my  friend,  Sir  Joshua  Reynoij)s,  to  whom  it 
is  inscribed,  lived  to  peruse  it,  and  to  give  the  strongest  testimony 
to  its  fidelity  ; '  but  before  a  second  edition,  which  he  contributed 
to  improve,  could  be  finished,  the  world  has  been  deprived  of  that 
most  valuable  man  ;  a  loss  of  which  the  regret  will  be  deep,  and 
lasting,  and  extensive,  proportionate  to  the  felicity  which  he  diffused 
through  a  wide  circle  of  admirers  and  friends. 

In  reflecting  that  the  illustrious  subject  of  this  Work,  by  being 
more  extensively  and  intimately  known,  however  elevated  before 
has  risen  in  the  veneration  and  love  of  mankind,  I  feel  a  satisfaction 
beyond  what  fame  can  afford.  We  cannot,  indeed,  too  much  or  too 
often  admire  his  wonderful  powers  of  mind,  when  we  consider  that 
the  principal  store  of  wit  and  wisdom  which  this  Work  contains, 
was  not  a  particular  selection  from  his  general  conversation,  but 
was  merely  his  occasional  talk  at  such  times  as  I  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  be  in  his  company  ;  and,  without  doubt,  if  his  discourse  at 
other  periods  had  been  collected  with  the  same  attention,  the  whole 
tenor  of  what  he  uttered  would  have  been  found  equally  excellent. 

His  strong,  clear,  and  animated  enforcement  of  religion,  morality, 
loyalty,  and  subordination,  while  it  delights  and  improves  the  wise 
and  the  good,  will,  I  trust,  prove  an  effectual  antidote  to  that 
detestable  sophistry  which  has  been  lately  imported  from  France, 
under  the  false  name  of  philosophy,  and  with  a  malignant  industry 

I  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  died  February  23, 1792,  in  his  69th  year.  Mr.  Crol:er  says : — "  Mr. 
Wordsworth  has  obligingly  furnished  me  with  the  following  copy  of  a  note  in  a  blank  page  of 
his  copy  of  Boswell's  work,  dictated  and  signed  in  Mr.  Wordsworth's  presence  by  the  late  SJ 
George  Beaumont,  whose  own  accuracy  was  exemplary,  and  who  lived  very  much  in  tha 
society  of  Johnson's  latter  days: — '  Rydal  Mount,  September  12, 1826.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
told  me  at  his  table,  immediately  after  the  publication  of  this  book,  that  every  word  of  it 
might  be  depended  upon  as  if  given  on  oath.  Boswell  was  in  the  habit  of  bringing  the  proof 
sheets  to  his  house,  previously  to  their  being  struck  off ;  and  if  any  of  the  company  happened 
to  have  been  present  at  the  conversation  recorded,  he  requested  him  or  them  to  correct  any 
error ;  and  not  satisfied  with  this,  he  would  run  over  all  London  for  the  sake  of  verifying  any 
tiod^e  word  which  might  be  disputed. — G.  H.  Beacmont.'  " 


ADVERTISEMENT   TO    THE    SECOND    EDITION.  XXXT 

has  been  employed  against  the  peace,  good  order,  and  happiness  of 
society,  in  our  free  and  prosperous  country  ;  but,  thanks  be  to  God, 
without  producing  the  pernicious  effects  which  were  hoped  for  by 
its  propagators. 

It  seems  to  me,  in  my  moments  of  self-complacency,  that  this 
extensive  biographical  work,  however  inferior  in  its  nature,  may  in 
one  respect  be  assimilated  to  the  Odyssey.  Amidst  a  tliousapd 
entertaining  and  instructive  episodes  the  Hero  is  never  long  out  of 
sight  ;  for  they  are  all  in  some  degree  connected  with  him  ;  and 
He,  in  the  whole  course  of  the  history,  is  exhibited  by  the  author 
for  the  best  advantage  of  his  readers  : 

— Quid  virtus  et  quid  sapientia  possit, 
Utile  proposuit  nobis  exemplar  TJlyssen.* 

Should  there  be  any  cold-blooded  and  morose  mortals  who  really 
dislike  this  Book,  I  will  give  them  a  story  to  apply.  When  the 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  accompanied  by  Lord  Cadogan,  was 
one  day  reconnoitring  the  Army  in  Flanders,  a  heavy  rain  came  on, 
and  they  both  called  for  their  cloaks.  Lord  Cadogan's  servant,  a 
good-humoured,  alert  lad,  brought  his  Lordship's  in  a  minute.  The 
Duke's  servant,  a  lazy,  sulky  dog,  was  so  sluggish,  that  his  Grace, 
being  wet  to  the  skin,  reproved  him,  and  had  for  answer  with  a 
grunt,  "  I  came  as  fast  as  I  could  ;"  upon  which  the  Duke  calmly 
said,  "  Cadogan,  I  would  not  for  a  thousand  pounds  have  that  fel- 
low's temper." 

There  are  some  men,  I  believe,  who  have,  or  think  they  have,  a 
very  small  share  of  vanity.  Such  may  speak  of  their  literary  fame 
in  a  decorous  style  of  diffidence.  But  I  confess,  that  I  am  so  formed 
by  nature  and  by  habit,  that  to  restrain  the  effusion  of  delight,  ou 

>  "  To  show  what  pious  wisdom's  power  can  do, 
Tlie  poet  sets  Ulysses  in  our  view." — Francis. 


XXXvi  ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE   SECOND   EDITION. 

having  attained  such  fame,  to  me  would  be  truly  painful.  Why, 
then,  should  I  suppress  it  ?  Why,  "  out  of  the  abundance  of  the 
heart "  should  I  not  speak  ?  Let  me  then  mention  with  a  warm, 
but  no  insolent  exultation,  that  I  have  been  regaled  with  sponta- 
neous praise  of  my  work  by  many  and  various  persons  eminent  for 
their  rank,  learning,  talents,  and  accomplishments  ;  much  of  which 
praise  I  have  under  their  hands  to  be  reposited  in  my  archives  at 
Auchinleck.  An  honourable  and  reverend  friend,  speaking  of  the 
favourable  reception  of  my  volumes,  even  in  the  circles  of  fashion 
and  elegance,  said  to  me,  "  you  have  made  them  all  talk  Johnson." 
Yes,  I  may  add,  I  have  Johnsonized  the  land  ;  and  I  trust  they  will 
not  only  talk,  but  think,  Johnson. 

To  enumerate  those  to  whom  I  have  been  thus  indebted,  would 
be  tediously  ostentatious.  I  cannot,  however,  but  name  one,  whose 
praise  is  truly  valuable,  not  only  on^  account  of  his  knowledge  and 
abilities,  but  on  account  of  the  magnificent,  yet  dangerous  embassy, 
in  which  he  is  now  employed,  which  makes  everything  that  relates 
to  him  peculiarly  interesting.  Lord  Macartney  *  favoured  me  with 
his  own  copy  of  my  book,  with  a  number  of  notes,  of  which  I  have 
availed  myself.  On  the  first  leaf  I  found,  in  his  Lordship's  hand- 
writing, an  inscription  of  such  high  commendation,  that  even  I,  vain 
as  I  am,  cannot  prevail  on  myself  to  publish  it. 

J.  BOSWELL. 
July  1, 1793. 

•  George,  Earl  Macartney,  was  born  in  Ireland,  in  1787.  In  1792,  he  was  appointed 
Ambassador  Extraordinary  to  tlie  Emperor  of  Ciiina.  In  1797,  an  account  of  his  embassy  vras 
published,  by  his  secretary.  Sir  George  Staunton.  He  died  in  1806,  and,  in  the  following 
year,  a  Memoir  of  his  Life  and  a  selection  from  his  writings,  were  published  by  John  Barrow, 
F.R.S.,  Secretary  to  the  Admiralty ;  who  had  also  accompanied  his  lordship  to  China. 


THE 

LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LLR 


CHAPTER    I. 

no9— me. 

btroduction — Johnson's  Birth  and  I'arentage — He  inherits  from  his  Father  "  a  Tile  MeU» 
choly" — His  account  of  the  Members  of  his  Family — Traditional  Stories  of  his  Precocity — 
Taken  to  London  to  be  touched  by  Queen  Anne  for  the  Scrofula. 

To  write  the  life  of  him  who  excelled  all  mankind  in  writing  the 
jves  of  others,-  and  who,  whether  we  consider  his  extraordinary 
endowments,  or  his  various  works,  has  been  equalled  by  few  in  any 
age,  is  an  arduous,  and  may  be  reckoned  in  me  a  presumptuous,  task. 
Had  Dr.  Johnson  written  his  own  Life,  in  conformity  with  the 
opinion  which  he  has  given,  that  every  man's  life  may  be  best  writ- 
ten by  himself,'  had  he  employed  in  the  preservation  of  his  own 
history,  that  clearness  of  narration  and  elegance  of  language  in 
which  he  has  embalmed  so  many  eminent  persons,  the  world  would 
probably  have  had  the  most  perfect  example  of  biography  that  was 
ever  exhibited.  But  although  he  at  different  times,  in  a  desultory 
manner,  committed  to  writing  many  particulars  of  the  progress  of 
his  mind  and  fortunes,  he  never  had  persevering  diligence  enough  t( 
form  them  into  a  regular  composition.  Of  these  memorials  a  fev. 
nave  been  preserved  ;  but  the  greater  part  was  consigned  by  him 
to  the  flames,  a  few  days  before  his  death. 

'  Idler,  No.  84.    ["  Those  relations  are  commonly  of  most  value.  In  which  the  writer  telli 
his  own  story."] 

VOL.    I,  %  » 


26  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 

As  I  had  the  honor  and  happiness  of  enjoying  his  friendship  foi 
upwards  of  twenty  years  ;  as  I  had  the  scheme  of  writing  his  life 
constantly  in  view  ;  as  he  was  well  apprised  of  this  circumstance, 
and  from  time  to  time  obligingly  satisfied  my  inquiries,  by  communi- 
cating to  me  the  incidents  of  his  early  years  ;  as  I  acquired  a  facility 
in  recollecting,  and  was  very  assiduous  in  recording  his  conversation, 
of  which  the  extraordinary  vigor  and  vivacity  constituted  one  of  the 
first  features  o-S  his  character  ;  and  as  I  have  spared  lo  pains  in 
obtaining  materials  concerning  him,  from  every  quarter  where  I 
could  discover  that  they  were  to  be  .found,  and  have  been  favoured 
with  the  most  liberal  communications  by  his  friends  ;  I  flatter  my- 
self that  few  biographers  have  entered  upon  such  a  work  as  this, 
with  more  advantages  ;  independent  of  literary  abilities,  in  which  I 
am  not  vain  enough  to  compare  myself  with  some  great  names  who 
have  gone  before  me  in  this  kind  of  writing. 

Since  my  work  was  announced,  several  Lives  and  Memoirs  of  Dr. 
Johnson  have  been  published,  the  most  voluminous  of  which  is  one 
compiled  for  the  booksellers  of  London,  by  Sir  John  Hawkins, 
Knight,^  a  man  whom,  during  my  long  intimacy  with  Dr.  JohnaoPi, 
I  never  saw  in  his  company,  I  think,  but  once,  and  I  am  sure  not 
above  twice.  ■  Johnson  might  have  esteemed  him  for  his  decent 
religious  demeanour,  and  his  knowledge  of  books  and  literary  history; 
but  from  the  rigid  formality  of  his  manners,  it  is  evident  that  they 
never  could  have  lived  together  with  companionable  ease  and  fami- 
liarity ;  nor  had  Sir  John  Hawkins  that  nice  perception  which  was 
necessary  to  mark  the  finer  and  less  obvious  parts  of  Johnson's  char 
acter.  His  being  appointed  one  of  his  executors  gave  him  an  oppor 
tunity  of  taking  possession  of  such  fragments  of  a  diary  and  otb^i 

1  The  greatest  part  of  this  book  was  written  while  Sir  John  Hawkins  was  alive ;  and  I  a^ow 
that  one  object  of  my  strictures  was  to  make  him  feel  some  compunction  for  his  illibera' 
treatment  of  Dr.  Johnson.  Since  his  decease,  I  have  suppressed  several  of  my  remarks  upon 
his  work.  Uut  tliough  I  would  not  "war  with  the  dead"  uffensioely,  I  think  it  necessary  to 
be  strenuous  in  defi-'iiee  of  my  illustrious  friend,  which  I  cannot  be,  without  strong  anina;id- 
versions  upon  a  writer  who  has  greatly  injured  him.  Let  me  add,  that  though  I  doubt  I 
should  not  have  been  very  prompt  to  gratify  Sir  John  Hawkins  with  any  compliment  in  his 
lifetime,  I  do  now  frankly  acknowledge,  that,  in  my  opinion,  his  volume,  however  inade- 
quate and  improper  as  a  life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  however  discredited  by  unpardonable  inac- 
curacies in  other  respects,  contains  a  collection  of  curious  anecdotes  and  observations,  which 
few  men  but  its  author  could  have  brought  together. — Boswell,  [Sir  John  Hawkins  published 
his  Life  of  Johnson  in  1787,  and  died  in  1789  ] 


INTRODUCTION.  2T 

papers  as  were  left  ;  of  which,  before  delivering  them  up  to  the 
residuary  legatee,  whose  property  they  were,  he  endeavoured  to 
extract  the  substance.  In  this  he  has  not  been  very  successful,  a3 
I  have  found  upon  a  perusal  of  those  papers,  which  have  been  since 
transferred  to  me.  Sir  John  Hawkins's  ponderous  labours,  I  must 
acknowledge,  exhibit  a  farrago,  of  which  a  considerable  portion  is 
not  devoid  of  entertainment  to  the  lovers  of  literary  gossiping  ;  but, 
besides  its  being  swelled  out  with  long  unnecessary  extracts  from 
various  works  (even  one  of  several  leaves  from  Osborne's  Harleian 
Catalogue,  and  those  not  compiled  by  Johnson,  but  by  Oldys),  a 
very  small  part  of  it  relates  to  the  person  who  is  the  subject  of  the 
book  ;  and,  in  that,  there  is  such  an  inaccuracy  in  the  statement 
of  facts,  as  in  so  solemn  an  author  is  hardly  excusable,  and  certainly 
makes  his  narrative  very  unsatisfactory.  But  what  is  still  worse, 
there  is  throughout  the  whole  of  it  a  dark  uncharitable  cast,  by 
which  the  most  unfavourable  construction  is  put  upon  almost  every 
circumstance  in  the  character  and  conduct  of  my  illustrious  friend  ; 
who,  I  trust,  will,  by  a  true  and  fair  delineation,  be  vindicated  both 
from  the  injurious  misrepresentations  of  this  author,  and  from  the 
slighter  aspersions  of  a  lady  who  once  lived  in  great  intimacy  with 
him. 

There  is,  in  the  British  Museum,  a  letter  from  Bishop  Warburton 
to  Dr.  Birch,  on  the  subject  of  biography  ;  which,  though  I  am 
aware  it  may  expose  me  to  a  charge  of  artfully  raising  the  value  of 
my  own  work,  by  contrasting  it  with  that  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
is  so  well  conceived  and  expressed,  that  I  cannot  refrain  from  hero 
inserting  it : 

"  I  shall  endeavour,"  says  Dr.  Warburton,  "  to  give  you  what  satisfaction  I 
can  in  anything  you  want  to  be  satisfied  in  any  subject  of  Milton,  and  am 
extremely  glad  you  intend  to  write  his  life.  Almost  all  the  life-writers  we 
have  had  before  Tolaud  and  Desmaiseaux  are  indeed  strange  insipid  creatures ; 
and  yet  I  had  rather  read  the  worst  of  them,  than  be  obliged  to  go  through 
with  this  of  Milton's,  or  the  other's  life  of  Boileau,  where  there  is  such  a  dull, 
heavy  succession  of  long  quotations  of  disinteresting  passages,  that  it  makes 
their  method  quite  nauseous.  But  the  verbose,  tasteless  Frenchman  seems  to 
lay  it  down  as  a  principle,  that  every  life  must  be  a  book,  and,  what's  worse 
it  proves  a  book  without  a  life  ;  for  what  do  we  know  of  Boileau,  after  all  his 
tedious  stuff?     You  are  the  only  one  (and  I  speak  it  without  a  compliment) 


28  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON 

that  by  the  vigour  of  your  style  and  senti.i^ents,  and  the  real  importance  of 
your  materials,  have  the  art  (which  one  would  imagine  no  one  could  have 
missed)  of  adding  agreements  to  the  most  agreeable  subject  in  the  world,  which 
is  literary  history. — Nov.  24,  1737."  * 

Instead  of  melting  down  my  materials  into  one  mass,  and  con- 
stantly speaking  in  my  own  person,  by  which  I  might  have  appeared 
to  have  more  merit  in  the  execution  of  the  work,  I  have  resolved  to 
adopt  and  enlarge  upon  the  excellent  plan  of  Mr.  Mason,  in  his 
Memoirs  of  Gray.  Wherever  narrative  is  necessary  to  explain,  con- 
nect, and  supply,  I  furnish  it  to  the  best  of  my  abihties  ;but  in  the 
chronological  series  of  Johnson's  life,  which  I  trace  as  distinctly  as  I 
can,  year  by  year,  I  produce,  wherever  it  is  in  my  power,  his  own 
minutes,  letters,  or  conversation,  being  convinced  that  this  mode  is 
more  lively,  and  will  make  my  readers  better  acquainted  with  him, 
than  even  most  of  those  were  who  actually  knew  him — but  could 
know  him  only  partially  ;  whereas  there  is  here  an  accumulation  of 
intelligence  from  various  points,  by  which  his  character  is  more 
fully  understood  and  illustrated. 

Indeed,  I  cannot  conceive  a  more  perfect  mode  of  writing  any 
man's  life,  than  not  only  relating  all  the  most  important  events  of  it 
in  their  order,  but  interweaving  what  he  privately  wrote,  and  said, 
-and  thought ;  by  which  mankind  are  enabled  as  it  were  to  see  him 
live,  and  to  "live  o'er  each  scene"*  with  him,  as  he  actually 
advanced  through  the  several  stages  of  his  life.  Had  his  other  friends 
been  as  diligent  and  ardent  as  I  was,  he  might  have  been  almost 
entirely  preserved.  As  it  is,  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  he  will  be 
seen  in  this  work  more  completely  than  any  man  who  has  ever  yet 
lived. 

And  he  will  be  seen  as  he  really  was  ;  for  I  profess  to  write  not 
his  panegyric,  which  must  be  all  praise,  but  his  Life  ;  which,  great 
and  good  as  he  was,  must  not  be  supposed  to  be  entirely  perfect. 
To  be  as  he  wag,  is  indeed  subject  of  panegyric  enough  to  any  man 
m  this  state  of  being  ;  but  in  every  picture  there  should  be  shade 

»  Brit.  Mus.  4320.    Ayscough's  Catal.     Sloane  MSS. 

•    "  T5  make  mankind  in  conscious  virtue  bold, 

Live  o'er  each  scene,  and  be  what  they  behold." 


INTRODUCTION.  ay 

as  well  as  ligat,  and  vvliea  I  delineate  liim  without  reserve,  I  do 
what  he  himself  recommended,  both  by  his  precept  and  his  example  : 

•'  If  the  biographer  writes  from  personal  knowledge,  and  makes  haste  to 
gratify  the  public  curiosity,  there  is  danger  lest  his  interest,  his  fear,  his  grati- 
tude, or  his  tenderness,  overpower  his  fidelity,  and  tempt  him  to  conceal,  if  not 
to  invent.  There  are  many  who  think  it  an  act  of  piety  to  hide  the  faults  or 
faiUngs  of  their  friends,  even  when  they  can  no  longer  suffer  by  their  detec- 
tion ;  we  therefore  see  whole  ranks  of  characters  adorned  with  uniform  pane- 
gyric, and  not  to  be  known  from  one  another  but  by  extrinsic  and  casual 
circumstances.  '  Let  me  remember,'  says  Hale,  '  when  I  find  myself  inclined 
to  pity  a  criminal,  that  there  is  likewise  a  pity  due  to  the  country.'  If  we  owe 
regard  to  the  memory  of  the  dead,  there  is  yet  more  respect  to  be  paid  to 
knowledge,  to  virtue,  and  to  truth."     [Rambler,  No.  60.] 

What  I  consider  as  the  peculiar  value  of  the  following  work,  is 
the  quantity  it  contains  of  Johnson's  Conversation  ;  which  is  univer- 
Bally  acknowledged  to  have  been  eminently  instructive  and  enter- 
taining ;  and  of  which  the  specimens  that  I  have  given  upon  a 
former  occasion  *  have  been  received  with  so  much  approbation, 
that  I  have  good  grounds  for  supposing  that  the  world  will  not  be 
indifferent  to  more  ample  communications  oi*a  similar  nature. 

That  the  conversation  of  a  celebrated  man,  if  his  talents  have 
been  exerted  in  conversation,  will  best  display  his  character,'  is, 
I  trust,  too  well  established  in  the  judgment  of  mankind,  to  be  at 
all  shaken  by  a  sneering  observation  of  Mr.  Mason,  in  his  Memoirs 
of  Mr.  William  Whitehead,  in  which  there  is  literally  no  Life,  but  a 
mere  dry  narrative  of  facts.  I  do  not  think  it  was  quite  necessary 
to  attempt  a  depreciation  of  what  is  universally  esteemed,  because  it 
was  not  to  be  found  in  the  immediate  object  of  the  ingenious 
writer's  pen  ;  for  in  truth,  from  a  man  so  still  and  so  tame,  as  to  be 
contented  to  pass  many  years  as  the  domestic  companion  of  a  super- 
annuated lord  and  lady,'  conversation  could  no  more  be  expected, 


'  Boswell  alludes  to  his  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  separately  published  in  17S5. 
but  now  given,  according  to  the  natural  order  of  time,  and  the  universally-approved  exampU 
of  Mr.  Croker,  as  a  constituent  and  important  part  of  the  author's  Life  of  Johnson. 

*  Johnson  expresses  a  somewhat  contrary  opinion  ;  and  every  one  must  be  aware,  that  bia 
OWD  circle  furnishes  exceptions  to  Boswell's  remark. 

»    Whitehead  lived  with  WilUam,  third  Earl  of  Jersey,  and  Anne  Eggerton,  his  countess. 


30  LIFE    OF  JOHNSON. 

than  from  a  Chinese  mandarin  on  a  chimney-piece,  or  the  fantastic 
figures  on  a  gilt  leather  skreen. 

If  authority  be  required,  let  us  appeal  to  Plutarch,  the  prince  of 
ancient  biographers  : — Ovre  ralg  eTCKfyaveordrttig  Trpd^eoi  -navTcog 
eveari  3T]Xo}Oig  dpETjjg  rj  Kaniag,  dXXa  -rrpdyna  Ppaxv  TToXXaKig, 
KoX  prina,  Koi  rraidtd  rig  eiKpaaLV  rjOovg  k-noi7]oev  fidXXov  i)  i^dxai 
fivpiovEKpoi,  TTapaTa^eig  al  [iiyi^rai,  KaX  TxoAiopkia  TToXecjv  : — . 
"  Nor  is  it  always  in  the  most  distinguished  achievements  that  men's 
virtues  or  vices  may  be  best  discerned  ;  but  very  often  an  action  of 
small  note,  a  short  saying,  or  a  jest,  shall  distinguish  a  person's 
real  character  more  than  the  greatest  sieges,  or  the  most  important 
battles."  ' 

To  this  may  be  added  the  sentiments  of  the  very  man  whose  life  I 
am  about  to  exhibit : 

"  The  business  of  the  biographer  is  often  to  pass  slightly  over  those  perform- 
ances and  incidents  which  produce  vulgar  greatness,  to  lead  the  thoughts  into 
domestic  privacies,  and  display  the  minute  details  of  daily  life,  where  exterior 
appendages  are  cast  aside,  and  men  excel  each  other  only  by  prudence  and  by 
virtue.  The  account  of  Thuanus  is,  with  great  propriety,  said  by  its  author  to 
have  been  written,  that  it  might  lay  open  to  posterity  the  private  and  familiar 
character  of  that  man,  cujus  ingeiiiwn  et  candorum  ex  ipsius  scriptis  sunt  olim 
semper  miraturi, — whose  candour  and  genius  will,  to  the  end  of  time,  be  by 
his  writings  preserved  in  admiration. 

"There  are  many  invisible  circumstances,  which,  whether  we  read  as 
enquirers  after  natural  or  moral  knowledge,  whether  we  intend  to  enlarge  our 
science  or  increase  our  virtue,  are  more  important  than  public  occurrences. 
Thus,  Sallust,  the  great  master  of  nature,  has  not  forgot,  in  his  account  of 
Catiline,  to  remark,  that  his  walk  was  now  quick,  and  again  slow,  as  an  indica 
tion  of  a  mind  revolving  with  violent  commotion.*  Thus,  the  story  of  Melanc- 
thon  aifords  a  striking  lecture  on  the  value  of  time,  by  informing  us,  that  when 
he  had  made  an  appointment,  he  expected  not  only  the  hour,  but  the  minute 
to  be  fixed,  that  the  day  might  not  run  out  in  the  idleness  of  suspense ;  and  all 
the  plans  and  enterprises  of  De  Witt  are  now  of  less  importance  to  the  woild, 

>  Plutarch's  Life  of  Alexander  ;  Langhorne's  translation. 
'  "  You  may  sometimes  trace 

A  feeling  in  each  footstep,  as  disclosed 

By  Sallust  in  his  Catiline,  who,  chased 
By  all  the  demons  of  all  passions,  show'd 
Their  work,  even  by  the  way  In  which  he  trode." 

Btron,  vol.  xvi,  p.  III. 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

than  that  part  of  his  persdnal  character  which  represents  him  as  careful  of  hU 
health  and  negligent  of  his  hfe. 

"  But,  biography  has  often  been  alotted  to  writers,  who  seem  very  little 
acquainted  with  the  nature  of  their  task,  or  very  neghgent  about  the  perform- 
ance. They  rarely  afford  any  other  account  than  might  be  collected  from 
public  papers,  but  imagine  themselves  writing  a  life,  when  they  exhibit  a  chro- 
nological series  of  actions  or  preferments ;  and  have  so  little  regard  to  the 
manners  or  behaviour  of  their  heroes,  that  more  knowledge  may  be  gained  of 
a  man's  real  cha'racter,  by  a  short  conversation  with  one  of  his  servants,  than 
from  a  formal  and  studied  narrative,  begun  with  his  pedigree,  and  ended  with 
his  funeral. 

"  There  are,  indeed,  some  natural  reasons  why  these  narratives  are  often 
written  by  such  as  were  not  likely  to  give  much  instruction  or  delight,  and 
why  most  accounts  of  particular  persons  are  barren  and  useless.  If  a  life  be 
delayed  till  interest  and  envy  are  at  an  end,  we  may  hope  for  impartiality,  but 
must  expect  httle  intelligence;  for  the  incidents  which  give  excellence  to 
biography  are  of  a  volatile  and  evanescent  kind,  such  as  soon  escape  the 
memory,  and  are  rarely  transmitted  by  tradition.  We  know  how  few  can  por- 
tray a  living  acquaintance,  except  by  his  most  prominent  and  observable  parti- 
cularities, and  the  grosser  features  of  his  mind ;  and  it  may  be  easily  imagined 
how  much  of  this  little  knowledge  may  be  lost  in  imparting  it,  and  how  soon  a 
succession  of  copies  will  lose  all  resemblance  of  the  original."  [Rambler, 
No.  60.] 

I  am  fully  aware  of  the  objections  which  may  be  made  to  the  mi- 
nuteness, on  some  occasions,  of  my  detail  of  Johnson's  conversation, 
and  how  happily  it  is  adapted  for  the  petty  exercise  of  ridicule,  by 
men  of  superficial  understanding,  and  ludicrous  fancy  ;  but  I  remain 
firm  and  confident  in  my  opinion,  that  minute  particulars  are  fre- 
quently characteristic,  and  always  amusing,  when  they  relate  to  a  dis- 
tinguished man.  I  am  therefore  exceedingly  unwilling  that  anything, 
however  slight,  which  my  illustrious  friend  thought  it  worth  his 
while  to  express,  with  any  degree  of  point,  should  perish.  For  this 
almost  superstitious  reverence,  I  have  found  very  old  and  venerable 
authority,  quoted  by  our  great  modern  prelate.  Seeker,  in  whose 
tenth  sermon  there  is  the  following  passage  : 

"  Rabbi  David  Kimchi,'  a  noted  Jewish  commentator,  whp  lived  about  five 
hundred  years  ago,  explains  that  passage  in  the  first  Psalm,  'His  leaf  also  shall 

'  David  KImchI,  a  Spanish  Rabbi,  died,  at  an  advanced  age,  in  1240,  leaving  several  world 
■till  held  in  high  estimation  by  the  learned  Jews. 


32  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 

not  wither,  from  Rabbins  yet  older  than  himself,  thus  : — That  '  even  the  idla 
talk,'  so  he  expresses  it,  '  of  a  good  man  ought  to  be  regarded  ;'  the  most 
Buperfluous  things,  he  saith,  are  always  of  some  value.  And  other  ancient 
authors  have  the  same  phrase  nearly  in  the  same  sense." 

Of  one  thing  I  am  certain,  that,  considering  how  highly  the  small 
.portion  which  we  have  of  the  table-talli,  and  other  anecdotes,  of  our 
celebrated  writers  is  valued,  and  how  earnestly  it  is  regretted  that 
we  have  not  more,  I  am  justified  in  preserving  rather  too  many  of 
Johnson's  sayings,  than  too  few  ;  especially  as,  from  the  diversity 
of  dispositions,  it  cannot  be  known  with  certainty  beforehand, 
whether  what  may  seem  trifling  to  some,  and  perhaps  to  the  col- 
lector himself,  may  not  be  most  agreeable  to  many  ;  and  the  greater 
number  that  an  author  can  please  in  any  degree,  the  more  pleasure 
does  there  arise  to  a  benevolent  mind. 

To  those  who  are  weak  enough  to  think  this  a  degrading  task, 
and  the  time  and  labour  which  have  been  devoted  to  it  misemployed, 
I  shall  content  myself  with  opposing  the  authority  of  the  greatest 
man  of  any  age,  Julius  Caesar,  of  whom  Bacon  observes,  that  "  in 
his  book  of  apophthegms  which  he  collected,  we  see  that  he  esteemed 
it  more  honour  to  make  himself  but  a  pair  of  tables,  to  take  the 
wise  and  pithy  words  of  others,  than  to  have  every  word  of  his  own 
to  be  made  an  apophthegm  or  an  oracle."  [Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing, Book  I.] 

Having  said  thus  much  by  way  of  Introduction,  I  commit  the  fol- 
lowing pages  to  the  candour  of  the  public. 


Samuel  Johnson  was  born  in  Lichfield,  in  Staffordshire,  on  the 
18th  of  September,  N.  S.  1709  ;  and  his  initiation  into  the  Christian 
church  was  not  delayed  ;  for  his  baptism  is  recorded,  in  the  register 
of  St.  Mary's  parish  in  that  city,  to  have  been  performed  on  the  day 
of  his  birth  :  his  father  is  there  styled  Gentleman,  a  circumstance  of 
which  an  ignorant  panegyrist  has  praised  him  for  not  being  proud  ; 
when  the  truth  is,  that  the  appellation  of  Gentleman,  though  now 
lost  in  the  indiscriminate  assumption  of  Esquire,  was    commonly 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

taken  by  those  who  could  not  boast  of  gentility.'  His  father  was 
Michael  Johnson,  a  native  of  Derbyshire,  of  obscure  exti  action,  who 
settled  in  Lichfield  as  a  bookseller  and  stationer.  His  mother  was 
Sarah  Ford,  descended  of  an  ancient  race  of  substantial  yeomanry 
in  Warwickshire.  They  were  well  advanced  in  years  when  they 
married,  and  never  had  more  than  two  children,  both  sons  :  Samuel, 
their  first-born,  who  lived  to  be  the  illustrious  character  wiiose 
various  excellence  I  am  to  endeavour  to  record,  and  Nathaniel,  who 
died  in  his  twenty-fifth  year.^ 

1  The  tiUe  Gentleman  had  still,  in  1709,  some  degree  of  its  original  meaning,  and  as 
Mr.  Johnson  served  the  office  of  sheriff  of  Lichfield  in  that  year,  he  seems  to  have  been  fully 
entitled  to  it.  The  Doctor,  at  his  entry  on  the  books  of  Pembroke  College,  and  at  his  matri- 
culation, designated  himself  &&Jiliufi  {/enerosi. — Croker. 

■•'  Michael  Johnson,  the  father  of  Samuel,  was  a  bookseller  at  Lichfield  ;  a  very  pious  and 
worthy  man,  but  wrong-headed,  positive,  and  afflicted  with  melancholy,  as  his  son,  from 
whom  alone  I  had  the  information,  once  told  me :  his  business,  however,  leading  him  to  be 
much  on  horseback,  contributed  to  the  preservation  of  his  bodily  health,  and  mental  sanity  ; 
which,  when  he  stayed  long  at  home,  would  sometimes  be  about  to  give  way;  and  Mr.  John- 
son, said,  that  when  his  workshop,  a  detached  building,  had  fallen  half  down  for  want  of 
money  to  repair  it,  his  father  was  not  less  diligent  to  lock  the  door  every  night,  though  he  saw 
that  anybody  might  walk  in  at  the  back  part,  and  knew  that  there  was  no  security  obtained 
by  barring  the  front  door.  "  T/iis  (said  his  son)  was  madness,  you  may  see,  and  would  have 
been  discoverable  in  other  instances  of  the  prevalence  of  imagination,  but  that  poverty  pre- 
vented it  from  playing  such  ti-icks  as  riches  and  leisure  encourage."  Michael  was  a  man  of 
still  larger  size  and  greater  strength  than  his  son,  who  was  reckoned  very  like  him,  but  did  not 
delight  in  talking  much  of  his  family — "  One  has  (says  he)  w  little  pleasure  in  reciting  th« 
anecdotes  of  beggary  !"  One  day,  however,  hearing  me  praise  a  favourite  friend  with  par- 
tial tenderness  and  true  esteem  :  "  Why  do  you  like  that  man's  acquaintance  so  ?"  said  he. 
" Because,"* replied  I,  "he  is  open  and  confiding,  and  tells  me  stories  of  his  uncles  and 
cousins;  I  love  the  light  parts  of  a  solid  character."  "  Nay,  if  you  are  for  family  history 
(says  Mr.  Johnson,  good-humouredly),  I  can  fit  you  :  I  had  an  uncle,  Cornelius  Ford,  who, 
upon  a  journey,  stopped  and  read  an  inscription  written  on  a  stone  he  saw  standing  by  the 
wayside,  set  up,  as  it  proved,  in  honour  of  a  man  who  had  leaped  a  certain  leap  thereabouts, 
the  extent  of  which  was  specified  upon  the  stone  :  Why  now,  says  my  uncle,  I  could  leap  it 
in  my  boots;  and  he  did  leap  it  in  his  boots.  I  had  likewise  another  uncle,  .Andrew  (conti- 
nued he),  my  father's  brother,  who  kept  the  ring  in  Smithfield  (where  tliej'  wrestled  and 
box;d),  for  a  whole  year,  and  never  was  thrown  or  conquered.  Here  now  are  un  :los  for  you, 
niMresx^  if  that's  the  way  to  your  heart." 

Michael  Johnson  was  past  fifty  years  old  when  he  married  his  wife,  who  was  upwards  of 
forty  ;  yet,  I  think  her  son  told  me  she  remained  three  years  childless  before  he  was  born  into 
the  world,  who  so  greatly  contributed  to  improve  it.  In  three  years  more  she  brought  anotlier 
BOn,  Nathaniel,  who  lived  to  be  twenty -seven  or  twenty-eight  years  ^  d,*  and  of  whose  manly 
spirit  I  have  heard  his  brother  speak  with  pride  and  pleasure,  mentioning  one  circumstance, 

*  Nathaniel  was  born  in  1712,  and  died  in  1737.  Their  father,  Michael  Johnson,  was  bom 
at  Cubley  in  Derbyshire,  in  16.56,  at  died  at  Lichfield,  in  1731,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six. 
furah  Ford,  his  wife,  was  born  at  King's  Norton,  in  the  county  of  Worcester,  in  1669,  and  died 
at  Lichfield,  in  January,  1759,  in  her  ninetieth  year.  King's  Norton  Dr.  Johnson  supposed  to 
be  in  Warwickshire  (see  his  inscription  for  his  mother's  tomb),  but  it  is  in  Worcestershire 
nrobably  on  the  confines  of  the  coutty  of  Warwick.— Malone. 

2* 


34  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^^°^' 

Mr.  Michael  Johnson  was  a  man  of  a  large  and  robust  body,  and 
of  a  strong  and  active  mind  ;  yet,  as  in  the  most  solid  rocks  veins 
of  unsound  substance  are  often  discovered,  there  was  in  him  a  mix- 
ture of  that  disease,  the  nature  of  which  eludes  the  most  minute 
enquiry,  though  the  effects  are  well  known  to  be  a  weariness  of  life, 
an  unconcern  about  those  things  which  agitate  the  greater  part  of 

rarticular  enough,  that  when  the  company  were  one  day  lamenting  the  badness  of  the  roads, 
Le  inquired  where  they  could  be,  as  he  travelled  the  country  more  than  most  people,  and  had 
r,  ever  seen  a  bad  road  in  his  life.  The  two  brothers  did  not,  however,  much  delight  in  each 
other's  company,  being  alwaj's  rivals  for  the  mother's  fondness;  and  many  of  the  severe 
reflections  on  domestic  life  in  Rasselas,  took  their  source  from  its  author's  keen  recollections 
of  the  time  passed  in  his  early  years.  Their  father,  Michael,  died  of  an  inflammatory  fever, 
af  the  age  of  seventy-six,  as  Mr.  Johnson  told  me :  their  mother  at  eighty -nine,  of  a  gradual 
decay.  She  was  slight  in  her  person,  he  said,  and  rather  below  than  above  the  common  size. 
So  excellent  was  her  character,  and  so  blameless  her  life,  that  when  an  oppressive  neighbour 
once  endeavoured  to  take  from  her  a  little  field  she  possessed,  he  could  persuade  no  attorney 
to  undertake  the  cause  against  a  woman  so  beloved  in  her  narrow  circle;  and  it  ia  this  inc' 
dent  he  alludes  to  in  the  line  of  his  "  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,"  calling  her 

"  The  general  favourite  as  the  general  friend." 

Mrs.  Piosxi. 

Note  tiy  Mr.  Croter. — There  seems  some  ditBcuIty  in  arriving  at  a  satisfactory  opinion  as 
to  Michael  Johnson's  real  condition  and  circumstances.  That  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life  he 
was  poor,  is  certain ;  and  Dr.  Johnson  (in  the  "  Account  of  his  early  Life")  not  only  admits 
tlie  general  fact  of  poverty,  but  gives  several  instances  of  what  maybe  cnWtA  indigpnce  : 
yet,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  evidence,  that  for  near  fifty  years  he  occupied  a  respectable 
rank  amongst  his  fellow-citizens,  and  appears  in  the  annals  of  Lichfield  on  occasions  not 
bespeaking  poverty.  In  16S7,  a  subscription  for  recasting  the  cathedral  bells  was  set  on  foot, 
headed  by  the  bishop,  dean,  etc.,  aided  by  tlie  neighbouring  gentry :  Michael  Johnson's  name 
stands  the  twelfth  in  the  list ;  and  his  contribution,  though  only  10^' ,  was  not  comparatively 
contemptible ;  for  no  one,  except  the  bishop  and  dean,  gave  so  much  as  £10.  Baronets  and 
knights  gave  a  guinea  or  two,  and  the  great  body  of  the  contributors  gave  less  than  Johnson. 
(Ilarwood's  Lichfield,  p.  69.)  In  1694,  we  find  him  burying  in  the  Cathedral,  and  placing  a 
marble  stone  over  a  young  woman  in  whose  fate  he  v/as  interested.  His  house,  a  handsome 
one,  and  in  one  of  the  best  situations  in  the  town,  was  his  own  freehold  ;  and  lie  appeal's  to 
kave  added  to  it,  for  we  find  in  the  books  of  the  corporation  the  following  entry :  "  170S,  July 
n.  Agreed,  that. Mr.  Michael  Johnson,  bookseller,  have  a  lease  of  his  encroachment  of  his 
kouse  in  Sadler's  Street,  for  forty  years,  at  2.s.  M  per  an."  And  this  lease,  at  the  expiration 
if  the  forty  years  was  renewed  to  the  Doctor  as  a  mark  of  the  respect  of  his  fellow-citizens. 
Ii  1709,  Michael  Johnson  served  the  ofBce  of  sheriff  of  the  county  of  the  city  of  Lichfield, 
ft  1718,  he  was  elected  junior  bailiff;  and  in  1725,  senior  bailiff,  or  chief  magistrate.  Thus 
respected  and  apparently  thriving  in  Lichfield,  the  following  extract  of  a  letter,  writteu  by 
the  Rev.  George  Plaxton,  chaplain  to  Lord  Gower,  will  show  the  high  estimation  in  which  the 
tether  of  our  great  moralist  was  held  in  the  neighbouring  country  :  "  Trentham,  St  Peter's  day, 
1716.  Johnson,  the  Lichfield  librarian,  is  now  here  ;  he  propagates  learning  all  over  this 
diocese,  and  advanceth  knowledge  to  its  just  height ;  all  the  clergy  here  are  his  pupils,  and 
Buck  all  they  have  from  him ;  Allen  cannot  make  a  warrant  without  his  precedent,  nor  our 
qiirmdam  John  Evans  draw  a  recognizance  Mne  directione  Michaeli''."  (Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine, October,  1791.)    On  the  whole,  it  seems  probable  that  the  growing  expenses  of  a  family 


^''^'^-  1-  INTRODUCTION.  35 

maDkind,  and  a  general  sensation  of  gloomy  wretchedness.  From 
him,  then,  his  son  inherited,  with  some  other  qualities,  "  a  vile 
melancholy"  which,  in  his  too  strong  expression  of  any  disturbance  of 
the  mind,  "  made  him  mad  all  his  life,  at  least  not  sober."  Michael 
was,  however,  forced  by  the  narrowness  of  his  circumstances  to  be 
very  diligent  in  business,  not  only  in  his  shop,  but  by  occasionally 
resorting  to  several  towns  in  the  neighborhood,  some  of  which 
were  at  a  considerable  distance  from  Lichfield.  At  that  time 
booksellers'  shops  in  the  provincial  towns  of  England  were  very 
rare,  so  that  there  was  not  one  even  in  Birmingham,  in  which  town 
old  Mr.  Johnson  used  to  open  a  shop  every  market-day.  He  was  a 
pretty  good  Latin  scholar,  and  a  citizen  so  creditable  as  to  be  made 
one  of  the  magistrates  of  Lichfield  :  and,  being  a  man  of  good 
sense,  and  skill  in  his  trade,  he  acquired  a  reasonable  share  of 
wealth,  of  which,  however,  he  afterwards  lost  the  greatest  part,  by 

and  Josses  in  trade,  had  in  his  latter  years  reduced  Mr.  Johnson,  from  the  state  of  competency 
which  he  had  before  enjoyed,  to  very  narrow  circumstances. 


The  following  is  the  title-page  and  address  to  his  customers,  of  one  of  Michael  Johnson'a 
Sale  Catalogues,  in  Mr.  Upcott's  collection: 

"A  Catalogue  of  choice  books,  in  all  faculties,  divinity,  history,  travels,  law,  physic,  mathe- 
matics, philosophy,  poetry,  etc.,  together  with  bibles,  common-prayers,  shop-books,  pocket- 
books,  etc.  Also  fine  French  prints, for  staircases  and  large  chimney-pieces;  maps,  large  and 
small.  To  be  sold  by  Auction,  or  he  who  bids  most,  at  the  Talbot,  in  Sidbury,  Worcester. 
The  sale  to  begin  on  Friday,  the  21st  of  this  instant  March,  1717-lS,  exactly  at  six  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  and  to  continue  till  all  be  sold.  Catalogues  are  given  out  at  the  place  of  sale, 
or  by  Michael  Johnson  of  Lichfield. 

"  To  all  Gentlemen,  Ladies,  and  others,  in  and  near  Worcester : 

"I  have  had  several  auctions  in  your  neighbourhood,  as  Gloucester,  Tewkesbury,  Evesham, 
etc.,  with  success,  and  am  now  to  address  myself,  and  try  my  fortune  with  you. 

"  You  must  not  wonder  that  I  begin  every  day's  sale  with  small  and  common  books  ; 
the  reason  is,  a  room  is  some  time  a  filling ;  and  persons  of  address  and  business  seldom  com- 
ing first,  they  are  entertainment  till  we  are  full :  they  are  never  the  last  books  of  the  best 
kind  oJ  that  sort,  for  ordinary  families  and  young  persons,  etc.  But  in  the  body  of  (he 
catalogue  you  will  find  law,  mathematics,  history  ;  and  for  the  learned  in  divinity,  tliere  are 
Drs.  South,  Taylor,  Tillotson,  Beveridge,  Flavel,  etc.,  the  best  of  that  kind  :  anc[  to  please  the 
Ladies,  1  have  added  store  of  fine  pictures  and  paper-hangings  ;  and,  by  the  way,  I  wculd 
desire  them  to  take  notice,  that  the  pictures  shall  always  be  put  up  by  the  noon  of  that  day 
they  are  to  be  sold,  that  they  may  be  viewed  by  daylight. 

"  I  have  no  more,  but  to  wish  you  pleased,  and  myself  a  good  sale,  who  am  your  bumble 
aervant. 

"M.  Johnson,"] 


3G  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^'^1*- 

eiigaj^iiig'  unsuccessfully'  iu  a  mauufacture  of  pavchmeat.  He  was 
a  ZGalous  high-churchman  and  a  royalist,  and  retained  his  attach- 
ment to  the  unfortunate  house  of  Stuart,  though  he  reconciled 
himself  by  casuistical  arguments  of  expediency  and  necessity,  to  take 
the  oaths  imposed  by  the  prevailing  power. 

There  is  a  circumstance  in  his  life  somewhat  romantic,  but  so  well 
authenticated,  that  I  shall  not  omit  it.  A  young  woman  of  Leek, 
in  Staffordshire,  while  he  served  his  apprenticeship  there,  conceived  a 
violent  passion  for  him  ;  and  though  it  met  with  no  favourable  return 
followed  him  to  Lichfield,  where  she  took  lodgings  opposite  to  the 
house  in  which  he  lived,  and  indulged  her  hopeless  flame.  When 
he  was  informed  that  it  so  preyed  upon  her  mind  that  her  life  was 
in  danger,  he,  with  a  generous  humanity,  went  to  her  and  offered  to 
marry  her,  but  it  was  then  too  late :  her  vital  power  was  exhausted; 
and  she  actually  exhibited  one  of  the  very  rare  instances  of  dying  for 
love.  She  was  buried  in  the  cathedral  of  Lichfield  ;  and  he,  with  a 
tender  regard,  placed  a  stone  over  her  grave  with  this  inscrip- 
tion : 

Here  lies  the  Body  of 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blaney,  a  Stranger. 

She  departed  this  Life 

20th  of  September,  1694. 

Johnson's  mother  was  a  woman  of  distinguished  understanding. 
1  asked  his  old  school-fellow,  Mr.  Hector,  surgeon,  of  Bermingham, 
if  she  was  not  vain  of  her  son.  He  said,  "  she  had  too  much  good 
sense  to  be  vain,  but  she  knew  her  son's  value."  Her  piety  was  not 
inferior  to  her  understanding  ;  and  to  her  must  be  ascribed  those 
early  impressions  of  religion  upon  the  mind  of  her  son,  from  which 
the  world  afterwards  derived  so  much  benefit.  He  told  me,  that 
he  remembered  distinctly  having  had  the  first  notice  of  Heaven,  "  a 
place  to  which  good  people  went,"  and  hell,  "  a  place  to  which  bad 
people  went,"  communicated  to  him  by  her,  when  a  little  child  in 
bed  with  her  ;  and  that  it  might  be  the  better  fixed  in  his  memory, 

'  In  this  undertaking,  nothing  prospered ;  they  had  no  sooner  bought  a  large  stock  of 
■kins,  than  a  heavy  duty  was  laid  upon  that  article,  and  from  Michael's  absence  by  his  many 
avocations  as  a  bookseller,  the  parchment  business  was  committed  to  a  faithless  servant, 
and  thence  they  gradually  declined  into  strait  circumstances. — Gent.  Mag.,  vol.  Iv.  p.lOO. 


^i^r.  5J  INTUOUUCTION.  3*2 

she  sent  bim  to  repeat  it  to  Thomas  Jacksou,  their  man-servant  :  he 
not  being  in  the  way,  this  was  not  done  ;  but  there  was  no  occasion 
for  any  artificial  aid  for  its  preservation. 

In  following  so  very  eminent  a  man  from  his  cradle  to  his  grave, 
every  minute  particular,  which  can  throw  light  on  the  progress  of 
his  mind,  is  interesting.  That  he  Vas  remarkable,  even  in  his 
earliest  years,  may  easily  be  supposed  ;  for — to  use  his  own 
words  in  his  life  of  Sydenham — "  That  the  strength  of  his  under- 
standing, the  accuracy  of  his  discernment,  and  the  ardour  of  his 
curiosity,  might  have  been  remarked  from  his  infancy,  by  a  diligent 
observer,  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  :  for,  there  is  no  instauce-.of 
any  man,  whose  history  has  been  minutely  related,  that  did  not  in 
every  part  of  his  life  discover  the  same  proportion  of  intellectual 
vigour." 

In  all  such  investigations  it  is  certainly  unwise  to  pay  too  much 
attention  to  incidents  which  the  credulous  relate  with,  eager  satis- 
faction, and  the  more  scrupulous  or  witty  inquirer  considers  only  as 
topics  of  ridicule  ;  yet  there  is  a  traditional  story  of  the  infant  Her- 
cules of  toryism,  so  curiously  characteristic,  that  I  shall  not  with- 
hold it.  It  was  communicated  to  me  in  a  letter  from  Miss  Mary 
Adye  of  Lichfield. 

"  When  Dr.  Sacheverel  was  at  Lichfield,  Johnson  was  not  quite  three  years 
old.  My  grandfather  Hammond  observed  him  at  the  cathedral  perched  upon 
his  father's  shoulders,  listening  and  gaping  at  the  much  celebrated  preacher. 
Mr.  Hammond  asked  Mr.  Johnson  how  he  could  possibly  think  of  bringing  such 
an  infiint  to  church,  and  in  the  midst  of  so  great  a  crowd.  He  answered,  because 
it  was  impossible  to  keep  him  at  home ;  for  young  as  he  was,  he  believed  he 
had  caught  the  public  spirit  and  zeal  for  Sacheverel,  and  would  have  staid  for 
ever  in  the  church,  satisfied  with  beholding  him."  ^ 

Nor  can  I  omit  a  little  instance  of  that  jealous  independence  of 

'  The  gossiping  anecdotes  of  Lichfield  ladies  are  all  apocryphal.  Sacheverel,  by  his  sen- 
tence, pronounced  in  Feb.  1710,  was  interdicted  for  three  years  from  preaching ;  so  that  he 
could  not  have  preached  at  Lichfield  while  Johnson  was  under  three  years  of  age.  But  what 
decides  the  falsehood  of  Miss  Adye's  story  is,  that  Sacheverel's  triumphal  progress  through 
the  midland  counties  was  in  1710;  and  it  api)ears  by  the  books  of  the  corporation  of  Lich- 
Beld,  that  he  was  received  in  that  town  and  complimented  by  the  attendance  of  the  corpora- 
Vlon,  "  and  a  present  of  three  dozen  of  wine,"  on  the  16th  of  June,  1710  ;  when  the  ''  inJUnt 
Hercules  Q/toryism  "  was  just  ni7ie  monthn  old.—  Croker, 


38  IJFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


m*. 


Bpirit,  and  impetuosity  of  temper,  which  never  forsook  him.  The 
fact  was  acknowleded  to  me  by  himself,  upon  the  authority  of  his 
mother.  One  day,  when  the  servant  who  used  to  be  sent  to  school 
to  conduct  him  home  had  not  come  in  time,  lie  set  out  by  himself 
though  he  was  then  so  near-sighted,  that  he  was  obliged  to  stoop 
down  on  his  hands  and  knees  to  take  a  view  of  the  kennel  before  he 
ventured  to  step  over  it.  His  schoolmistress,  afraid  that  he  might 
miss  his  way,  or  fall  into  the  kennel,  or  be  run  over  by  a  cart,  fol- 
lowed him  at  some  distance.  He  happened  to  turn  about  and  per-- 
ceive  her.  Feeling  her  careful  attention  an  insult  to  his  manliness, 
ha  ran  back  to  her  in  a  rage,  and  beat  her,  as  well  as  his  strength 
would  permit. 

Of  the  power  of  his  memory,  for  which  he  was  all  his  life  eminent 
to  a  degree  almost  incredible,  the  following  early  instance  was  told 
me  in  his  presence  at  Lichfield,  in  11*16,  by  his  step-daughter,  Mrs. 
Lucy  Porter,  as  related  to  her  by  his  mother.  When  he  was  a 
child  in  petticoats,  and  had  learnt  to  read,  Mrs.  Johnson  one  morn- 
ing put  the  common  prayer-book  into  his  hands,  pointed  to  the 
collect  for  the  day,  and  said,  "  Sam  you  must  get  this  by  heart." 
She  went  ap  stairs,  leaving  him  to  study  it :  but  by  the  time  she 
had  reached  the  second  floor,  she  heard  him  following  her. 
"  What's  the  matter  ?"  said  she.  "  I  can  say  it,"  he  replied  ;  and 
repeated  it  distinctly,  though  he  could  not  have  read  it  more  than 
twice. 

But  there  has  been  another  story  of  his  infant  precocity  generally 
circulated,  and  generally  believed,  the  truth  of  which  I  am  to  refute 
upon  his  own  authority.  It  is  told  that,  when  a  child  of  three  years 
old,  he  chanced  to  tread  upon  a  duckling,  the  eleventh  of  a  brood, 
and  killed  it  ;  upon  which  it  is  said,  he  dictated  to  his  mother  the 
following  epitaph  : 

"  Here  lies  good  master  duck, 

Whom  Samuel  Johnson  trod  on  ; 

If  it  had  lived,  it  had  been  (jood  luck. 

For  then  we'd  had  an  odd  one.^* 

There  is  surely  internal  evidence  that  this  little  composition  com- 
bines in  it,  what  no  child  of  three  years  old  could  produce,  wit!  out 


■S'AT,  8.  IKTRODUCTION.  39 

an  extension  of  its  faculties  by  immediate  inspiration  ;  yet  Mrs. 
Lucy  Porter,  Dr.  Johnsuu's  step-daughter,  positively  maintained  to 
me,  in  his  presence,  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  this 
anecdote,  for  she  had  heard  it  from  his  mother.  So  difficult  is  it  to 
obtain  an  authentic  relation  of  facts,  and  such  authority  may  there 
be  for  error  ;  for  he  assured  me,  that  his  father  made  the  verses, 
and  wished  to  pass  them  for  his  child's.  He  added,  "  My  father 
was  a  foolish  old  man  ;  that  is  to  say,  foolish  in  talking  of  his 
children."  ' 

Young  Johnson  had  the  misfortune  to  be  much  afflicted  with  the 
scrofula,  or  king's  evil,  which  disfigured  a  countenance  naturally 
well  formed,  and  hurt  his  visual  nerves  so  much,  that  he  did  not  see 
at  all  with  one  of  his  eyes,  though  its  appearance  was  little  different 
from  that  of  the  other.  There  is  amongst  his  prayers,  one  inscribed 
"  When  my  eye  was  restored  to  its  use,"  '■'  which  ascertains  a  defect 
that  many  of  his  friends  knew  he  had,  though  I  never  perceived  it.* 
I  supposed  him  to  be  only  near-sighted  ;  and  indeed  I  must  observe, 
that  in  no  other  respect  could  I  discern  any  defect  in  his  vision  ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  force  of  his  attention  and  perceptive  quickness 
made  him  see  and  distinguish  all  manner  of  objects,  whether  of  nature 
or  of  art,  with  a  nicety  that  is  rarely  to  be  found.  When  he  and 
I  were  travelling  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  I  pointed  out  to 
him  a  mountain  which  I  observed  resembled  a  cone,  he  corrected  my 
inaccuracy,  by  showing  me  that  it  was  indeed  pointed  at  the  top, 

1  This  anecdote  of  the  duck,  though  disproved  by  internal  and  external  eridence,  has 
nevertheless,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth,  been  made  the  foundation  of  the  following  inge- 
nious and  fanciful  reflections  of  Miss  Seward,  amongst  the  communications  concerning  Dr. 
Johnson  with  which  she  has  been  pleased  to  favour  me :— "  These  infant  numbers  contain  the 
seeds  of  those  propensities  which,  through  his  life,  so  strongly  marked  his  character,  of  that 
poetic  talent  which  afterwards  bore  such  rich  and  plentiful  fruits ;  for,  excepting  his  ortho- 
graphic works,  every  thing  which  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  was  poetry,  whose  essence  consists  not 
in  numbers,  or  in  jingle,  but  in  the  strength  and  glow  of  a  fancy,  to  which  all  the  stores  of 
nature  and  of  art  stand  in  prompt  administration  ;  and  in  an  eloquence  which  conveys  their 
blended  illustrations  in  a  language  '  more  tuneable  than  needs  or  rhyme  or  verse  to  add  more 
harmony.'  The  above  little  verses  also  show  that  superstitious  bias  which  grew  with  his^ 
growth,  and  strengthened  with  his  strength,'  and  of  late  years  particularly,  injured  his  happi- 
ness, by-presenting  to  him  the  gloomy  side  of  religion,  rather  than  that  bright  and  cheering 
one  which  gilds  the  period  of  closing  life  with  the  light  of  pious  hope."  This  is  so  beautifully 
imagined,  that  J  \touW  not  suppress  H.  But  like  many  other  theories,  it  is  deduced  from  a 
supposed  Tact,  which  }s,. indeed,  a  fiction.  .'    ' 

•     ^  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  27. 
r"  finMliMnliiBg  him  rlf  of  the  impei-fection  of  one  of  his  eyes,  he  said,  "  The  dog  was  never 
t6«a  Ibr  much."— Bdrk«t. 


40  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ■^'^*' 

but  that  one  side  of  it  was  larger  than  the  other.  And  the  ladies 
with  whom  he  was  acquainted  agree,  that  no  man  was  more  nicely 
and  minutely  critical  in  the  elegance  of  female  dress.  When  I 
found  that  he  saw  the  romantic  beauties  of  Islam,  in  Derbyshire, 
much  better  than  I  did,  I  told  him,  he  resembled  an  able  performer 
upon  a  bad  instrument.  How  false  and  contemptible,  then,  are  all 
the  remarks  which  have  been  made  to  the  prejudice  either  of  his 
candour  or  of  his  philosophy,  founded  upon  a  supposition  that  he 
was  almost  blind.  It  has  been  said,  that  he  contracted  this 
grievous  malady  from  his  nurse.  His  mother, — yielding  to  the 
superstitious  notion,  which,  it  is  wonderful  to  think,  prevailed  so 
long  in  this  country,  as  to  the  virtue  of  the  regal  touch  ;'  a  notion 
which  our  kings  encouraged,  and  to  which  a  man  of  such  inquiry 
and  such  judgment  as  Carte"  could  give  credit  ;  carried  him  to 
Loudon,  where  he  was  actually  touched  by  Queen  Anne.^  Mrs, 
Johnson,  indeed,  as  Mr.  Hector  informed  me,  acted  by  the  advice  of 
the  celebrated  Sir  John  Floyer,  then  a  physician  in  Lichfield.  Johnson 
used  to  talk  of  this  very  frankly  ;  and  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  preserved  his 
very  picturesque  description  of  the  scene,  as  it  remained  upon  his 
fancy.  Being  asked,  if  he  could  remember  Queen  Anne, — "  He  had," 
he  said,  "  a  confused,  but  somehow  a  sort  of  solemn  recollection  of 
a  lady  in  diamonds,  and  a  long  black  hood."  This  touch,  however, 
was  without  any  effect.  I  ventured  to  say  to  him  in  allusion  to  the 
political  principles  in  which  he  was  educated,  and  of  which  he  ever 
retained  some  odour,  that  his  mother  had  not  carried  him  far 
enough  ;  she  should  have  taken  him  to  Rome." 

1  This  healing  gift  is  said  to  have  been  derived  to  our  princes  from  Edward  the  Confessor, 
For  much  curious  matter  relating  to  the  royal  touch,  see  Harrington's  "  History  of  Ancient 
Statutes,"  p.  107.  In  the  London  Gazette,  No.  2180,  there  is  this  advertisement: — "White- 
hall, Oct.  8,  1C86.  His  Majesty  is  graciously  pleased  to  appoint  to  heal,  weelily,  for  the  evil, 
upon  Fridays ;  and  hath  commanded  his  physicians  and  chirurgeous  to  attend  at  the  office 
appointed  for  that  purpose  in  the  Meuse,  upon  Thursdays,  in  the  afternoon,  tn  give  out 
tickets  " 

2  In  consequence  of  a  note,  in  vindication  of  the  efficacy  of  the  royal  touch,  which  Carte, 
admitted  into  the  first  volume  of  his  History  of  England,  the  corporation  of  London  withdrew 
their  subscription,  and  the  work  instantaneously  fell  inln  aliimst  total,  but  certaliriy  unde- 
served, neglect. — Nichols.  ■ 

It  would  seem,  that  Swift  might  l)e  included  amongst  the  believeirs,  ap,  in  Ws  Jwwrnal  to 
Stella,  he  says,  "  I  si)oke  to  the  Duchess  of  Ormond,  to  get  u  !»d  toucLjed.tor-tbe  e^'ll^  the  8on 
of  a  grocer."    ScotfsSWift,  vol.  li.  p.  252. — Markl.ikd. 

*  It  appears  by  tlio  nfiwjpapera  of  the.  time,  that  on  the  80th  <»t;]Harch^.lTJV,  Iwo  lj\indrfl4 
persons  were  touched  by  Queen  Anne.  Tiliaoa-  ~"  nauu! 


CHAPTEK    li. 

1716—1128. 

oh(i3on  goes  to  School  at  Lichfield — Particulars  of  his  boyish  days — Removed  to  the  SchiM), 
of  Stourbridge — Specimens  of  his  School  Exercises  and  early  Verses — He  leaves  Stour- 
bridge, and  passes  two  years  with  his  Father. 

He  was  first  taught  to  read  English  by  Dame  Oliver,  a  widow,  who 
kept  a  school  for  young  children  in  Lichfield.  He  told  me  she  could 
read  the  black  letter,  and  asked  him  to  borrow  for  her,  from  his 
father,  a  bible  in  that  character.  When  he  was  going  to  Oxford, 
she  came  to  take  leave  of  him,  brought  him,  in  the  simplicity  of  her 
kindness,  a  present  of  gingerbread,  and  said  he  was  the  best  scholar 
she  ever  had.  He  delighted  in  mentioning  this  early  compliment ; 
adding,  with  a  smile,  that  "  this  was  as  high  a  proof  of  his  merit  as 
he  could  conceive."  His  next  instructor  in  English  was  a  master, 
whom,  when  he  spoke  of  him  to  me,  he  familiarly  called  Tom  Brown, 
who,  said  he,  "  published  a  spelling-book,  and  dedicated  it  to  the 
Universe  :  but,  I  fear,  no  copy  of  it  can  now  be  had." 

He  began  to  learn  Latin  with  Mr.  Hawkins,  usher  or  under- 
master  of  Lichfield  school,  "  a  man,"  said  he,  "  very  skilful  in  his 
little  way."  With  him  he  continued  two  years,  and  then  rose  to  be 
under  the  care  of  Mr.  Hunter,  the  head  master,  who,  according  to 
his  account,  '*  was  very  severe,  and  wrong-headedly  severe.  He 
used,"  he  said,  "  to  beat  us  unmercifully  ;  and  he  did  not  distinguish 
between  ignorance  and  negligence  ;  for  he  would  beat  a  boy  equally 
for  not  knowing  a  thing,  as  for  neglecting  to  know  it.  He  would 
ask  a  boy  a  question,  and  if  he  did  not  answer  it,  he  would  beat 
him,  without  considering  whether  he  had  an  opportunity  of  knowing 
how  to  answer  it.  For  instance,  he  would  call  up  a  boy  and  ask 
him  Latin  for  a  candlestick,  which  the  boy  could  not  expect  to  be 
asked.  Now,  sir,  if  a  boy  could  answer  every  question,  there  would 
be  no  need  of  a  master  to  teach  him." 

41 


42  Life  of  johnson.  ^'^^^ 

It  is,  however,  but  justice  to  the  memory  of  Mr.  Hunter  to  men- 
tion,  that  though  he  might  err  in  being  too  severe,  the  school  of 
Lichfield  was  very  respectable  in  his  time.  The  late  Dr.  Taylor, 
prebendary  of  Westminster,  who  was  educated  under  hira,  told  me, 
that  "  he  was  an  excellent  master,  and  that  his  ushers  were  most  of 
them  men  of  eminence  ;  that  Holbrook,  one  of  the  most  ingenious 
men,  best  scholars,  and  best  preachers  of  his  age,  was  usher  during 
the  greatest  part  of  the  time  that  Johnson  was  at  school.  Then 
carae  Hague,  of  whom  as  much  might  be  said,  with  the  addition, 
that  he  was  an  elegant  poet.  Hague  was  succeeded  by  Green,' 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  whose  character  in  the  learned  world 
is  well  known.  In  the  same  form  with  Johnson  was  Congreve,  who 
afterwards  became  chaplain  to  Archbishop  Boulter,  and  by  that 
connection  obtained  good  preferment  in  Ireland.  He  was  a  younger 
son  of  the  ancient  family  of  Congreve,  in  Staffordshire,  of  which  the 
poet  was  a  branch.  His  brother  sold  the  estate.  There  was  also 
Lowe,  afterwards  canon  of  Windsor.'"' 

Indeed,  Johnson  was  very  sensible  how. much  he  owed  to  Mr. 
Hunter.  Mr.  Langton  one  day  asked  him,  how  he  had  acquired  so 
accurate  a  knowledge  of  Latin,  in  which,  I  believe,  he  was  exceeded 
by  no  man  of  his  time  ;  he  said  :  "  My  master  whipped  me  very  well. 
Without  that,  sir,  I  should  have  done  nothing."  He  told  Mr.  Lang- 
ton,  that  while  Hunter  was  flogging  his  boys  unmercifully,  he  used 
to  say  :  "  And  this  I  do  to  save  you  from  the  gallows."  Johnson, 
npon  all  occasions,  expressed  his  approbation  of  enforcing  instruc- 
tion by  means  of  the  rod  :  °  "  I  would  rather,"  said  he,  "  have  the 
rod  to  be  the  general  terror  to  all,  to  make  them  learn,  than  tell  a 
child,  if  you  do  thus,  or  thus,  you  will  be  more  esteemed  than  your 
brothers  or  sisters.  The  rod  produces  an  effect  which  terminates  in 
itself.  A  child  is  afraid  of  being  whipped,  and  gets  his  task,  and 
there's  an  end  on't ;  whereas,  by  exciting  emulation  and  comparisons 

'  Dr.  John  Green  was  born  in  1706,  and  died,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  in  1779.  He  was  one  of 
tlie  writers  of  the  celebrated  "Athenian  Letters,"  published  by  the  Earl  of  Hardwicke  in 
1798. 

^  Among  other  eminent  men,  Addison,  Wollaston,  Garrick,  Bishop  Newton,  Chief  Justice 
Willes,  Chief  Baron  Parker,  and  Chief  Justice  Wilmot,  were  educated  at  this  seminary. 

'  In  a  conversation  with  Dr.  Burney,  in  the  year  1775,  Johnson  said:  "There  is  now  leal 
flogging  in  our  great  schools  than  formerly,  but  then  Jess  is  learned  there;  so  that  what  tho 
boys  get  at  one  end  they  lose  at  the  other." 


(ETiT.  11—12.  LICHFIELD    SCHOOL.  43 

of  superiority,  you  lay  the  foundation  of  lasting  mischief ;  you  make 
brothers  and  sisters  hate  each  other." 

When  Johnson  saw  some  young  ladies  in  Lincolnshire  who  were 
remarkably  well  behaved,  owing  to  their  mother's  strict  discipline 
and  severe  correction,  he  exclaimed  in  one  of  Shakspcare's  lines  a 
little  varied,' 

^^  Hod,  I  will  honor  thee  for  this  thy  duty.'''' 

That  superiority  over  his  fellows,  which  he  maintained  with  so 
much  dignity  in  his  march  through  life,  was  not  assumed  from  vanity 
and  ostentation,  but  was  the  natural  and  constant  effect  of  those 
extraordinary  powers  of  mind,  of  which  he  could  not  but  be  con- 
scious by  comparison  ;  the  intellectual  difference,  which  in  other 
cases  of  comparison  of  characters  is  often  a  matter  of  undecided 
contest,  being  as  clear  in  his  case  as  the  superiority  of  stature  in 
some  men  above  otliers.  Johnson  did  not  strut  or  stand  on  tip-toe  ; 
be  only  did  not  stoop.  From  his  earliest  years,  his  superiority  was 
perceived  and  acknowledged.  He  was  from  the  beginning  Ava^ 
avdpuiv,  a  king  of  men.  His  schoolfellow,  Mr.  Hector,  has  oblig- 
ingly furnished  me  with  many  particulars  of  his  boyish  days  ;  and 
assured  me  that  he  never  knew  him  corrected  at  school,  but  for 
talking  and  diverting  other  boys  from  their  business.  He  seemed  to 
learn  by  intuition  ;  for  though  indolence  and  procrastination  were 
inherent  in  his  constitution,  whenever  he  made  an  exertion  he  did 
more  than  any  one  else.  In  short,  he  is  a  memorable  instance  of 
what  has  been  often  observed,  that  the  boy  is  the  man  in  miniature  ; 
and  that  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  each  individual  are  the 
same,  through  the  whole  course  of  Ufe.  His  favourites  used  to 
receive  very  liberal  assistance  from  him  ;  and  such  was  the  submis- 
sion and  deference  with  which  he  was  treated,  such  the  desire  to 
obtain  his  regard,  that  three  of  the  boys,  of  whom  Mr.  Hector  was 
sometimes  one,  used  to  come  in  the  morning  as  his  humble  attend- 
ants, and  carry  him  to  school.  One  in  the  middle  stooped,  while 
he  sat  upon  his  back,  and  one  on  each  side  supported  him  ;  and 
thus  he  was  borne  triumphant.     Such  a  proof  of  the  early  predomi- 

'  More  than  a  little.    The  line  is  in  King  Ileniy  VI ,  Part  n.  act  iv.  sc.  last: 
"SworO,  I  will  hallow  thee  for  thi?  »hy  deed." — Malone. 


44  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1724. 

nance  of  intellectual  vigour  is  very  remarkable,  and  does  honour  tc 
human  nature.'  Talking  to  me  himself  once  of  his  being  much  dis- 
tinguished at  school,  he  told  me  :  "  They  never  thought  to  raise  me 
by  comparing  me  to  any  one  ;  they  never  said,  Johnson  is  as 
good  a  scholar  as  such  a  one,  but  such  a  one  is  as  good  a  scholar  as 
Johnson  ;  and  this  was  said  but  of  one,  but  of  Lowe  ;  and  I  do  not 
think  he  was  as  good  a  scholar." 

He  discovered  a  great  ambition  to  excel,  which  roused  him  to 
counteract  his  indolence.  He  was  uncommonly  inquisitive  ;  and  his 
memory  was  so  tenacious,  that  he  never  forgot  anything  that  he 
either  heard  or  read.  Mr.  Hector  remembers  having  recited  to  him 
eighteen  verses,  which,  after  a  little  pause,  he  repeated  verbatim, 
varying  only  one  epithet,  by  which  he  improved  the  line. 

He  never  joined  with  the  other  boys  in  their  ordinary  diversions : 
his  only  amusement  was  in  winter,  when  he  took  a  pleasure  in  being 
drawn  upon  the  ice  by  a  boy  barefooted,  who  pulled  him  along  by  a 
garter  fixed  round  him  ;  no  very  easy  operation,  as  his  size  was 
remarkably  large.  His  defective  sight,  indeed,  prevented  him  from 
enjoying  the  common  sports  ;  and  he  once  pleasantly  remarked  to 
me,  "  how  wonderfully  well  he  had  contrived  to  be  idle  without 
them."  Lord  Chesterfield,  however,  has  justly  observed  in  one  of 
his  letters,  when  earnestly  cautioning  a  friend  against  the  pernicious 
effects  of  idleness,  that  active  sports  are  not  to  be  reckoned  idleness 
in  young  people  ;  and  that  the  listless  torpor  of  doing  nothing  alone 
deserves  that  name.  Of  this  dismal  inertness  of  disposition,  John- 
son had  all  his  life  too  great  a  share.  Mr.  Hector  relates,  that  "  he 
could  not  oblige  him  more  than  by  sauntering  away  the  hours  of 
vacation  in  the  fields,  during  which  he  was  more  engaged  in  talking 
to  himself  than  to  his  companion." 

Dr.  Percy,  the  Bishop  of  Dromore,  who  was  long  intimately 
acquainted  with  him,  and  has  preserved  a  few  anecdotes  concerning 
him,  regretting  that  he  was  not  a  more  diligent  collector,  informs 
me,  that  "  when  a  boy  he  was  immoderately  fond  of  reading  romances 

'  This  ovation  Mr.  Boswell  believed  to  have  been  an  honour  paid  to  the  early  predominance 
of  his  intellectual  powers  alone;  but  they  who  remember  what  boys  are,  and  who  consider 
thit  Johnson's  corporeal  prowess  was  by  no  means  despicable,  will  be  apt  to  suspect  that  the 
homage  was  enforced,  at  least  as  much  by  awe  of  tto  one,  as  by  admiration  of  the  other, -r 
Andgbson. 


•*"'•  ^'^^  STOURBRIDGE    SCHOOL.  46 

of  chivalry,  and  he  retained  his  fondness  for  them  through  life  ;  so 
that,"  adds  his  lordship,  "  spending  part  of  a  summer  at  ray  jiar- 
Bonage-hoiise  in  the  country,  he  chose  for  his  regular  reading  the  old 
Spanish  romance  of  Fdixmarte  of  Hircania,  in  folio,  which  he  read 
quite  through.  Yet  I  have  heard  him  attribute  to  these  extravagant 
fictions  that  unsettled  turn  or  mind  which  prevented  his  ever  fixing 
in  any  profession." 

After  having  resided  for  some  time  at  the  house  of  his  uncle, 
Cornelius  Ford,*  Johnson  was,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  removed  to  the 
school  at  Stourbridge,  in  Worcestershire,  of  which  Mr.  Wentworth 
was  then  master.  This  step  was  taken  by  the  advice  of  his  cousin, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Ford,  a  man  in  whom  both  talents  and  good  disposi- 
tions were  disgraced  by  licentiousness,"  but  who  was  a  very  able 
judge  of  what  was  right.  At  this  school  he  did  not  receive  so  much 
benefit  as  was  expected.  It  has  been  said,  that  he  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  an  assistant  to  Mr.  Wentworth,  in  teaching  the  younger 
boys.  "  Mr.  Wentworth,"  he  told  me,  "  was  a  very  able  man,  but 
an  idle  man,  and  to  me  very  severe  ;  but  I  cannot  blame  him  much. 
I  was  then  a  big  boy  ;  he  saw  I  did  not  reverence  him,  and  that  he 
should  get  no  honour  by  me.  I  had  brought  enough  with  me  to 
carry  me  through  ;  and  all  I  should  get  at  his  school  would  be 
ascribed  to  my  own  labour,  or  to  my  former  master.  Yet  he  tauglit 
me  a  great  deal." 

He  thus  discriminated  to  Dr.  Percy,  bishop  of  Dromore,  his  pro- 
gress at  his  two  grammar-schools  : — "  At  one,  I  learned  much  in  the 
school,  but  little  from  the  master  ;  in  the  ether,  I  learnt  much  from 
the  master,  but  httle  in  the  school." 

The  Bishop  also  informs  me,  that  Dr.  Johnson's  father,  before  he 

•  Cornelius  Ford,  according  to  Sir  John  Hawkins,  was  his  cousin-german,  being  the  son  of 
Dr.  Ford,  an  eminent  physician,  who  was  brother  to  Johnson's  mother. — Malone. 
'  He  is  said  to  be  the  original  of  the  parson  in  Hogarth's  Midnight  Modern  Conversation.— 

Bos  WELL. 

In  his  Life  of  Fenton,  Johnson  mentions  "Ford,  a  clergyman  at  that  time  too  well  known, 
whose  abilities,  instead  of  furnishing  convivial  merriment  to  the  voluptuous  and  dissolute, 
might  have  enabled  him  to  excel  among  the  virtuous  and  the  wise." — Croker. 

For  Johnson's  own  account  of  "  his  mother's  nephew,"  Ford,  see  poet,  Slay  12,  177S.  On 
•he  authority  of  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Mr.  Nichols  states,  that  "when  the  Midnight  McJern  Con- 
▼ersation  came  out,  the  general  opinion  was,  that  the  divine  was  the  portrait  of  Orator  Hen- 
ley." As  Ford  died  in  August  1731,  and  the  print  was  not  published  till  1733,  or  1734,  tt 
tDpears  unlikely  that  Hogarth  should  have  meant  to  represent  him.— W.  Smith,  jun. 


46  LIFE    OP   JOHNSON.  ^'^^ 

was  received  at  Stourbridge,  applied  to  have  him  admitted  as  a 
scholar  and  assistant  to  the  Eev.  Samuel  Lea,  M.A.,  head  master  of 
Newport  school,  in  Shropshire  ; — a  very  diligent,  good  teacher,  at 
that  time  in  high  reputation,  under  whom  Mr.  Hollis  is  said,  in  the 
Memoirs  of  his  Life,  to  have  been  also  educated.*  This  application 
to  Mr.  Lea  was  not  successful ;  but  Johnson  had  afterwards  the 
gratification  to  hear  that  the  old  gentleman,  who  lived  to  a  very 
advanced  age,  mentioned  it  as  one  of  the  most  memorable  events  of 
his  life,  that  "  he  was  very  near  having  that  great  man  for  a 
scholar." 

He  remained  at  Stourbridge  little  more  than  a  year,"  and  then  he 
returned  home,  *\'here  he  may  be  said  to  have  loitered  for  two 
years  in  a  state  very  unworthy  his  uncommon  abilities.  He  had 
already  given  several  proofs  of  his  poetical  genius,  both  in  his  school- 
exercises  and  in  other  occasional  compositions.  Of  these  I  have 
obtained  a  considerable  collection,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  Wentwortb, 
son  of  one  of  his  masters,  and  of  Mr.  Hector,  his  schoolfellow  and 
friend  ;  from  which  I  select  the  following  specimens  : 

TRANSLATION  OF  VIRGIL.   PASTORAL  I. 


Now,  Tityrus,  you,  supine  and  careless  laid, 
Play  on  your  pipe  beneath  this  beechen  shade ; 
While  wretched  we  about  the  world  must  roam, 
And  leave  our  pleasing  fields  and  native  home, 
Here  at  your  ease  you  sing  your  amorous  flame, 
And  the  wood  rings  with  AmariUis'  name, 

Tityrus. 

Those  blessings,  friend,  a  deity  bestow'd. 
For  I  shall  never  think  him  less  than  god : 
Oft  on  his  altar  shall  my  firstlings  lie, 
Their  blood  the  consecrated  stones  shall  dye: 

'  As  was  likewise  the  Bishop  of  Dromore  many  years  afterwards. 

'^  Yet  here  his  genius  was  so  distinguished  that,  although  little  better  than  a  school  hoy, 
he  was  admitted  into  the  best  company  of  the  place,  and  had  no  common  attention  paiH  to 
him  ;  of  which  remarkable  instances  were  long  remembered  there. — Perot. 


SCHOOL    EXJSHCISES.  47 

He  gave  my  flocks  to  graze  the  flo\ve.vy  meads, 
And  me  to  tuue  at  case  th'  imequul  reeds. 

My  admiration  only  I  exprest 
(No  sparli  of  envy  ifei-boiirs  in  my  breast), 
Tliat,  when  confusion  o'er  the  country  reigns, 
To  you  alone  this  hai^pj'  state  remains. 
Here  I,  thought  faint  myself,  must  drive  ray  goats 
Far  from  their  ancient  lields  and  humble  cots. 
This  scarce  I  lead,  who  left  on  yonder  rock 
Two  tender  kids,  the  hopes  of  all  the  flock. 
Had  we  not  been  pervesre  and  careless  grown,   • 
This  dire  event  ]>y  omens  was  foreshown  ; 
Our  trees  were  blasted  by  the  thunder  stroke, 
And  left-liand  crows,  from  an  old  hollow  oak, 
Foretold  the  coming  evil  by  their  dismal  croak. 


ITiANSLATION   OF  nORACE..     BOOK   I.      ODE   XXII. 

The  man,  my  friend,  whose  conscious  heart 
With  virtue's  sacred  ardour  glows, 

Nor  taints  with  death  the  envenom'd  dart 
Nor  needs  the  guard  of  Moorish  blows  : 

Though  Scythia's  icy  cliffs  he  treads. 
Or  horrid  Afric's  faithless  sands ; 

Or  where  the  famed  Hydaspes  spreads 
His  liquid  wealth  o'er  barbarous  lands. 

For  while  by  Chloe's  image  charm'd. 
Too  far  in  Siibine  woods  I  stray 'd  : 

Me  singing,  careless  and  unharmed, 
A  grizly  wolf  surpi-ized,  and  fled. 

No  savage  more  portentous  stain'd 
Apulia's  spacious  wilds  with  gore ; 

No  fiercer  Juba's  thirsty  land, 
Dire  nurse  of  raging  lions,  bore. 


48  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 

Place  me  where  no  soft  summer  gale 
Among  the  quivering  branches  sighs  ; 

Where  clouds  condensed  for  ever  veil 
With  horrid  gloom  the  frowning  skies  : 

Place  me  beneath  the  burning  line, 
A  clime  deny'd  to  human  race  : 

I'll  sing  of  Chloe's  charms  divine, 
Her  heavenly  voice,  and  beauteous  face. 


TRANSLATION  OF  UOKACE.   BOOK  II.  ODE  IX. 

Clouds  do  not  always  veil  the  skies, 
Nor  showers  immerse  the  verdant  plain  ; 

Nor  do  the  billows  always  rise, 
Oi'  storms  afflict  the  ruffled  mEsin. 

Nor,  Valgius,  on  th'  Armenian  shores 
Do  the  chain'd  waters  always  freeze; 

Nor  always  furious  Boreas  roars. 
Or  bends  with  violent  force  the  trees. 

But  you  are  ever  drown'd  in  tears. 
For  Mystes  dtvad  you  ever  mourn ; 

No  setting  Sol  can  ease  your  care. 
But  linds  you  sad  at  his  return.- 

The  wise,  experienced  Grecian  sage 
Mourn 'd  not  Antilochus  so  long ;  , 

Nor  did  King  Priam's  hoary  age 
So  much  lament  his  slaughter'd  son. 

Leave  off,  at  length,  these  woman's  sighs, 
Augustus'  numerous  trophies  sing  ; 

Kepeat  that  prince's  victories, 
To  whom  all  nations  tribute  bring. 

Niphates  rolls  an  humbler  wave. 
At  length  the  undaunted  Scythian  yields, 

Content  to  live  the  Koman  slave, 
And  scarce  forsakes  his  native  fields. 


SCHOOL   KXERCISE3  49 


TRANSLATION    Of    PAHT    OF   THE    DIALOGUE    BETWEKS    HECTOR   AND   ANDROMACHK. 
JROM    THE    SIXTH    BOOK    OF    UOMEk's    ILIAD. 

She  ceased  ;  then  godlike  Hector  answer'd  kind 
(His  various  plumage  sporting  in  the  wind), 
That  post,  and  all  the  rest  shall  be  my  care ; 
But  shall  I,  then,  forsake  the  unfinished  war? 
How  would  the  Trojans  brand  great  Hector's  name! 
And  one  base  action  sully  all  my  fame, 
Acquired  by  wounds,  and  battles  bravely  fought ! 
Oh  !  how  my  soul  abhors  so  mean  a  thought ! 
Long  since  I  learu'd  to  slight  tliis  Hceting  breath, 
And  view  with  cheerful  eyes  approaching  death. 
The  inexorable  sisters  have  decreed  . 
That  Priam's  house  and  Priam's  self  shall  blt;ed  : 
The  day  will  come,  in  which  proud  Troy  shall  yieia, 
And  spread  its  smoking  ruins  o'er  the  field. 
Yet  Hecuba's,  nor  Priam's  hoary  age. 
Whose  blood  shall  quench  some  Grecian's  thirsty  rage, 
Nor  my  brave  brothers,  that  have  bit  the  ground, 
Their  souls  dismiss'd  through  many  a  ghastly  wound, 
Can  in  my  bosom  half  that  grief  create, 
As  the  sad  thought  of  your  impending  fate : 
When  some  proud  Grecian  dame  shall  tasks  impose, 
Mimic  your  tears,  and  ridicule  your  woes  ; 
Beneath  Hyperia's  waters  shall  you  sweat, 
And,  fainting,  scarce  support  the  liquid  weight : 
Then  shall  some  Argive  loud  insulting  cry. 
Behold  the  wife  of  Hector,  guard  of  Troy ! 
Tears,  at  my  name,  shall  drown  those  beauteous  eyva, 
And  that  fair  bosom  heave  with  rising  sighs. 
Before  that  day,  by  some  brave  hero's  hand, 
May  I  lie  slain,  and  spurn  the  bloody  sand. 


TO   A   YOUNG    LADY    ON    HER    BIRTHDAY.* 

This  tributary  verse  receive,  my  fair, 
Warm  with  an  ardent  lover's  fondest  prayer. 

*  lit  Hector  Infonns  me  that  this  was  made  almost  impromptu  la  his  preMBO*. 

3 


50  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 

May  tliis  returning  day  for  ever  find 

'ITiy  form  more  lovely,  more  adorn'd  thy  miuo; 

All  pains,  all  cares,  may  favouring  Heaven  remove. 

All  but  the  sweet  solicitudes  of  love  ! 

May  powerful  nature  join  with  grateful  art, 

To  point  each  glance,  and  force  it  to  the  heart, 

0  then,  when  conquered  crowds  confess  thy  sway, 

When  ev'n  proud  wealth  and  prouder  wit  obey, 

My  fair,  be  mindful  of  the  mighty  trust, 

Alas!  'tis  liard  for  beauty  to  be  just. 

Those  sovereign  charms  with  strictest  care  employ : 

Nor  give  the  generous  pain,  the  worthless  joy : 

With  his  own  form  acquaint  the  forward  fool, 

Shown  in  the  faithful  glass  of  ridicule ; 

Teach  mimic  censure  her  own  faults  to  find, 

No  more  let  coquettes  to  themselves  be  blind, 

So  shall  Belinda's  charms  improve  mankind. 


THE   TOUNG   AUTHOR.^ 


Whkn  first  the  peasant,  long  inclined  to  roam, 
forsakes  his  rural  sports  and  peaceful  home, 
Pleased  with  the  scene  the  smiling  ocean  yields, 
He  scorns  the  verdant  meads  and  flow'ry  fields ; 
Then  dances  jocund  o'er  the  watery  way. 
While  the  breeze  whispers,  and  the  streamers  play , 
Unbounded  prospects  in  his  bosom  roll. 
And  future  millions  lift  his  rising  soul ; 
In  blissful  dreams  he  digs  the  golden  mine, 
And  raptured  sees  the  new-found  ruby  shine. 
Joys  insincere  !  thick  clouds  invade  the  skies. 
Loud  roar  the  billows,  high  the  waves  arise  : 
Sick'ning  with  fear,  he  longs  to  view  the  shore, 
And  vows  to  trust  the  faithless  deep  no  more. 

So  the  young  Author,  panting  after  fame, 
And  the  long  honours  of  a  lasting  name, 
latrusts  his  happiness  to  human  kind. 
More  false  more  cruel,  than  the  seas  or  wind. 

*  IWb  he  inserted,  with  many  aiterutions,  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1T4BI 


JUVENILE    VERSES.  51 

''  Toll  on,  dull  crowd,"  in  ecstasies  he  cries, 
'•  For  wealth  or  title,  perishable  prize ; 

While  I  those  transitory  blessings  scorn, 

Secure  of  praise  from  ages  yet  unborn." 

This  thought  once  form'd,  all  counsel  comes  too  late, 

He  flies  to  press,  and  hurries  on  his  fate  ; 

Swiftly  he  sees  the  imagined  laHrels  spread, 

And  feels  the  unfading  wreath  surround  his  head, 

Wiirn'd  hy  another's  fate,  vain  youth,  be  wise,  ^ 

Those  dreams  were  Settle's  once,  and  Ogilby's.  I 

The  pamphlet  spreads,  incessant  hisses  rise, 

To  some  retreat  the  baffled  writer  flies ; 

Where  no  sour  critics  snarl,  no  sneers  molest. 

Safe  from  the  tart  lampoon,  and  stinging  jest; 

There  begs  of  Heaven  a  less  distinguish'd  lot. 

Glad  to  be  hid,  and  proud  to  be  forgot. 


IPILOGUK    INTENDED   TO    HATE    BEEN   SPOKEN    BY  A  LADY  WHO  WAS  TO    PERSONATE 
THE    GHOST    OF    HERMIONE.' 

Ye  blooming  train,  who  give  despair  or  joy. 
Bless  with  a  smilq,  or  with  a  frown  destroy ; 
In  whose  fair  cheeks  destructive  Cupids  wait, 
And  with  unerring  shafts  distribute  fate  ; 
Whose  snowy  breasts,  whose  animated  eyes, 
Each  youth  admires,  though  each  admirer  dies ; 
Whilst  you  deride  their  pangs  in  barb'rous  play, 
Unpitying  see  them  weep,  and  hear  them  pray. 
And  unrelenting  sport  ten  thousand  lives  away  ; 
For  you,  ye  fair,  I  quit  the  gloomy  plains. 
Where  sable  night  in  all  her  horror  reigns ; 
No  fragrant  bowers,  no  delightful  glades, 
Receive  the  unhappy  ghosts  of  scornful  maids. 
For  kind,  for  tender  nymphs  the  myrtle  blooms, 
And  weaves  her  bending  boughs  in  pleasing  glooms ; 
Perennial  roses  deck  each  purple  vale. 
And  scents  ambrosial  breathe  in  very  gale : 

'  Some  y«ung  ladies  at  Lichfield  having  proposed  to  act  "The  Distressed  Mother,"  Johnsoi 
▼Tote  this,  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  Uector  to  convey  it  privately  to  them. 


52  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^'^^ 

Far  hence  are  banish'd  vapours,  spleen,  and  tears, 

Tea,  scandal,  ivory  teeth,  and  languid  airs : 

No  pug,  nor  favourite  Cupid  there  enjoys 

The  balmy  kiss,  for  which  poor  Thyrsis  dies ; 

Form'd  to  delight,  they  use  no  foreign  arms. 

Nor  torturing  whalebones  pinch  them  into  charms; 

No  conscious  blushes  there  their  cheeks  inflame, 

For  those  who  feel  no  guilt  can  know  no  shame  ; 

Unfaded  still  their  former  charms  they  show. 

Around  them  pleasures  wait,  and  joys  forever  ne» 

But  cruel  virgins  meet  severer  fates  ; 

Expell'd  and  exiled  from  the  blissful  seats, 

To  dismal  realms,  and  regions  void  of  peace 

Where  furies  ever  howl,  and  serpents  hiss. 

O'er  the  sad  plains  perpetual  tempests  sigh, 

And  pois'nous  vapours,  black'ning  all  the  sky, 

With  livid  hue  the  fairest  face  o'ercast. 

And  every  beauty  withers  at  the  blast : 

Where'er  they  fly  their  lovers'  ghosts  pursue. 

Inflicting  all  those  ills  which  once  they  knew ;  , 

Vexation,  Fury,  Jealousy,  Despair, 

Vex  ev'ry  eye,  and  ev'ry  bosom  tear ; 

Their  foul  deformities  by  all  descry'd. 

No  maid  to  flatter  and  no  paint  to  hide. 

Then  melt,  ye  ftiir,  while  clouds  around  you  sigh, 

Nor  let  disdain  sit  louring  in  your  eye  ; 

With  pity  soften  evei-y  awful  grace. 

And  beauty  smile  auspicious  in  each  face  ; 

To  ease  their  pains  exert  your  milder  power, 

So  shall  you  guiltless  reign,  and  all  mankind  adore. 

The  two  years  which  he  spent  at  home,  after  his  return  from 
Stourbridge,  he  passed  in  what  he  thought  idleness,  and  was  scolded 
by  his  father  for  his  want  of  steady  application.  He  had  no 
settled  plan  of  life,  nor  looked  forward  at  all,  but  merely  lived 
from  day  to  day.  Yet  he  read  a  great  deal  in  a  desultory 
manner,  without  any  scheme  of  study,  as  chance  threw  books 
in  his  way,  and  inclination  directed  him  through  them.  He  used 
to  mention  one  curious  instance  of  his  casual  reading,  when  but 
a  boy.  Having  imagined  that  his  brother  had  hid  some  apples 
behind  a  large  folio  upon  an  upper  shelf  in  his  father's  shop,  he 
climbed  up  to  search  for  them.     There  were  no  apples  ;  but  the 


£tat.  a. 


EARLY    STUDIES.  53 


large  folio  proved  to  be  Petrarch,'  whom  he  had  seen  taentioiied, 
in  some  preface,  as  one  of  the  restorers  of  learning.  His  curiosity 
having  been  thus  excited,  he-  sat  down  with  avidity,  and  read  a 
great  part  of  the  book.  What  he  read  during  these  two  years,  he 
told  me,  was  not  works  of  mere  amusement,  "  not  voyages  and 
travels,  but  all  literature,  sir,  all  ancient  writers,  all  manly  ;  though 
but  little  Greek,  only  some  of  Anacreon  and  Hesiod  :  but  in  this 
irregular  manner,"  added  he,  "  I  had  looked  into  a  great  many 
books,  which  were  not  commonly  known  at  the  universities,  where 
they  seldom  read  any  books  but  what  are  put  into  their  hands  by 
their  tutors  ;  so  that  when  I  came  to  Oxford,  Dr.  Adams,  now  mas- 
ter of  Pembroke  College,  told  me,  I  was  the  best  qualified  for  the 
university  that  he  had  ever  known  come  there." 

In  estimating  the  progress  of  his  mind  during  these  two  years,  aa 
well  as  in  future  periods  of  his  life,  we  must  not  regard  his  own 
hasty  confession  of  idleness  ;  for  we  see  when  he  explains  himself, 
that  he  was  acquiring  various  stores  ;  and,  indeed,  he  himself  con- 
cluded the  account  with  saying,  "  I  would  not  have  you  think  I  was 
doing  nothing  then.'-'  He  might,  perhaps,  have  studied  more  assi- 
duously ;  but  it  may  be  doubted,  whether  such  a  mind  as  his  was 
not  more  enriched  by  roaming  at  large  in  the  fields  of  literature, 
than  if  it  had  been  confined  to  any  single  spot.  The  analogy 
between  body  and  mind  is  very  general,  and  the  parallel  will  hold 
as  to  their  food,  as  well  as  any  other  particular.  The  flesh  of  ani- 
mals who  feed  excursively  is  allowed  to  have  a  higher  flavour  than 
that  of  those  who  are  cooi)ed  up.  May  there  not  be  the  same 
dififcrence  between  men  who  read  as  their  taste  prompts,  and  men 
who  are  confined  in  cells  and  colleges  to  stated  tasks  ?  * 

1  This  was,  probably,  tlie  foKio  edition  of  Petrarch's  Op^ra  Omnia  qtim  faUtnt,  Bits.  15M. 
It  could  have  been  only  the  Latin  work3  that  Johnson  read,  as  there  Is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  he  was,  at  this  period,  able  to  read  Italian. — Cboker. 

*  Dr.  Johnson's  prodigious  memory  and  talents  enabled  him  to  collect  from  desultory  read- 
ing a  vast  mass  of  general  information  ;  but  he  was  in  no  xcience,  and,  indeed,  we  might 
almost  say,  in  no  branch  of  literature,  what  is  usually  called  n  profound  neholar — that 
character  is  only  to  be  earned  by  laborious  study  ;  and  Mr.  Boswell's  fanciful  allusion  to  the 
flavour  of  the  flesh  of  animals  seems  fallacious,  not  to  say  foolish. — Crokkr. 


CHAPTER    III. 

1128—1731. 

Enters  at  Pembroke  College,  Oxford — His  College  Life— The  "Morbid  Melancholy"  lurk- 
ing In  his  Constitution  gains  Strength — Translates  Pope's  Messiah  into  Latin  Verse — Hig 
Course  of  Reading  at  Oxford — Quits  College. 

That  a  man  in  Mr.  MicLael  Johnson's  circninstances  should  think  of 
sending  his  son  to  the  expensive  university  of  Oxford,  at  his  own 
charge,  seems  very  improbable.  The  subject  was  too  delicate  to 
question  Johnson  upon  :  but  I  have  been  assured  by  Dr.  Taylor, 
that  the  scheme  never  would  have  taken  place,  had  not  a  gentleman 
of  Shropshire,  one  of  his  schoolfellows,  spontaneously  undertaken 
to  support  him  at  Oxford,  in  the  character  of  his  companion  ; 
though,  in  fact,  he  never  received  any  assistance  whatever  from  that 
gentleman.* 

He,  however,  went  to  Oxford,  and  was  entered  a  commoner 
of  Pembroke  College,  on  the  31st  of  October,  1728,  being  then 
in  his  nineteenth  year. 

The  Reverend  Dr.  Adams,  who  afterwards  presided  over  Pem- 
broke College  with  universal  esteem,  told  me  he  was  present,  and 
gave  me  some  account  of  what  passed  on  the  night  of  Johnson's 
arrival  at  Oxford.     On  that  evening,  his  father,  who  had  anxiously 

1  A  neighbouring  gentleman,  Mr.  Andrew  Corbett,  having  a  son,  who  had  been  educated  la 
the  same  school  with  Johnson,  whom  he  was  about  to  send  to  Pembroke  College,  in  Oxford,  a 
p-oposal  was  made  and  accepted,  that  Johnson  should  attend  his  son  thither,  in  quality  oi 
assistant  in  his  studies. — Hawkins. 

Andrew  Corbett  appears,  from  the  books  of  Pembroke  College,  to  have  been  admitted 
February  24,  172T,  and  his  name  was  removed  from  the  books  February  21,  1T32  ;  so  that,  as 
Johnson  entered  in  October,  1728,  and  does  not  appear  to  have  returned  after  Christmas,  1729, 
Corbett  was  of  the  university  twenty  months  he/ore  and  twelve  or  thirteen  months  iijter  John- 
son. And,  on  reference  to  the  college  books,  it  appears  that  Corbett's  residence  was  so 
irregular,  and  so  little  coincident  with  Johnson's,  that  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
Johnson  was  employed  either  as  the  2^'"i'0(Ue  tutor  of  Corbett,  as  Hawkins  states,  or  his  coin- 
panion,  as  Boswell  suggests. — Ckokkk. 
64 


-^^T-^T.  19.  I'KMl'.UOKE    COLLKCiE.  55 

accoiiipaiiied  him,  fuuud  uieaiis  to  have  hhu  introduced  to  Mr.  Jor 
den,  wiio  was  to  be  liis  tutor.  His  bciug  put  under  any  tutor, 
reminds  us  of  what  Wood  saj's  of  Robert  Burton,  author  of  the 
"  Anatomy  of  Mehxncholy,"  when  elected  student  of  Christ-cliurch  ; 
"  for  form's  sake,  though  he  wanted  not  a  tutor,  he  was  put  under  tlie 
tuition  of  Dr.  John  Bancroft,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Oxou."  ^ 

His  father  seemed  very  full  of  the  merits  of  his  son,  and  told  the 
company  he  was  a  good  scholar,  and  a  i)oet,  and  wrote  Latin 
verses.  His  figure  and  manner  appeared  strange  to  them  ;  but  he 
behaved  modestly,  and  sat  silent,  till  upon  something  which  oc^curred 
in  the  course  of  conversation,  he  suddenly  struck  in  and  quoted 
Macrobius  ;  and  thus  he  gave  the  first  impression  of  that  more 
extensive  reading  in  which  he  had  indulged  himself. 

His  tutor,  Mr.  Jorden,  fellow  of  Pembroke,  was  not,  it  seems, 
a  man  of  such  abilities  as  w^e  should  conceive  requisite  for  the 
instructor  of  Samuel  Johnson,  who  gave  me  the  following  accouut 
of  him  :  "  He  was  a  very  worthy  man,  but  a  heavy  man  ;  and  I 
did  not  profit  much  l)y  his  instructions.^  Indeed,  I  did  not  attend 
him  much.  The  first  day  after  I  came  to  college  I  waited  upon 
him,  and  then  staid  away  four.  On  the  sixth,  Mr.  Jorden  asked  me 
why  I  had  not  attended.  I  answered,  I  had  been  sliding  in  Cfirist- 
church  meadow.  And  this  I  said  with  as  much  nonchalance  as  I  am 
now  talking  to  you.  I  had  no  notion  that  I  was  wrong  or  irreve- 
rent to  my  tutor." — Boswell.  "  That,  sir,  was  great  fortitude  of 
mind." — Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  stark  insensibility."  ' 

The  fifth  of  November  was  at  that  time  kept  with  great  solem- 
nity at  Pembroke  College,  and  exercises  upon  the  subject  of  the  day 
were  required.     Johnson  neglected  to  perform  his,  which  is  much  to 

1  Athen.  Oxon.  edit.  1721,  i.  627. 

'  "  Johnson,"  says  Hawkin.«,  "would  oftener  risk  the  payment  of  a  small  fine  than  attend 
his  lectures  ;  nor  was  he  studious  to  conceal  the  reason  of  his  absence.  Upon  occasion  of  one 
cueh  imposition,  he  said  to  Jorden,  'Sir,  you  have  sconced  me  two-i)ence  for  non-attendance 
at  a  lecture  not  worth  a  penny.' "  It  has  been  thought  worth  while  to  preserve  this  anecdote, 
ji.<  an  early  specimen  of  the  antithetical  style  of  Johnson's  conversation. — Crokfjj. 

5  It  oiight  to  be  remenibered,  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  apt,  in  his  literary  as  well  as  moral 
e.\erci.ses,  to  overcharge  his  defects.  Br.  Adams  informed  me,  that  he  attended  liia  tutor's 
lectures,  and  also  the  lectures  in  the  College  Hall,  very  regularly. — Boswell. 

When  he  related  to  me  this  anecilole,  he  laughed  very  heartily  at  his  own  insolence,  and 
said  they  endured  it  from  him  with  a  gentleness  that,  whenever  he  thought  of  it,  astoaishe^ 
himself. — Pioz/.i, 


56  UFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

be  regretted  ;  for  his  vivacity  of  imagination,  and  force  of  language, 
would  probably  have  produced  something  sublime  upou  the  Gun- 
powder Plot.  To  apologise  for  his  neglect,  he  gave  iu  a  short  copy 
of  verses,  entitled  Somnium,  containing  a  common  thought,  "  that 
the  Muse  had  come  to  him  in  his  sleep  and  whispered,  that  it  did 
Dot  become  him  to  write  on  such  subjects  as  politics  ;  he  should 
confine  himself  to  humbler  themes :"  but  the  versification  was  truly 
Virgilian.* 

He  had  a  love  and  respect  for  Jorden,  not  for  his  literature,"  but 
for  his  worth.  " Whenever,"  said  he,  "a  young  man  becomes 
Jordeu's  pupil,  he  becomes  his  son." 

Having  given  such  a  specimen  of  his  poetical  powders,  he  was 
asked  by  Mr.  Jorden  to  translate  Pope's  Messiah  into  Latin  verse, 
as  a  Christmas  exercise.  He  performed  it  with  uncommon  rapidity, 
and  in  so  masterly  a  manner,  that  he  obtained  great  applause  from 
it,  which  ever  after  kept  him  high  in  the  estimation  of  his  college, 
and,  indeed,  of  all  the  university. 

It  is  said  that  Mr.  Pope  expressed  himself  concerning  it  in  terms 
of  strong  approbation.'  Dr.  Taylor  told  me  that  it  was  first  printed 
for  old  Mr.  Johnson,  without  the  knowledge  of  his  son,  who  was 
very  angry  when  he  heard  of  it.  A  Miscellany  of  Poems,  collected 
by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Husbands,*  was  pubhshed  at  Oxford  in 
1131.  In  that  Miscellany,  Johnson's  Translation  of  the  Messiah 
appeared,  with  this  modest  motto  from  Scaliger's  Poetics,  "  £Jx 
alieno  ingenio  poeta,  ex  suo  tantum  versijicator" 

I  am  not  ignorant  that  critical  objections  have  been  made  to  this 
and   other  specimens  of  Johnson's  Latin  poetry.     I  acknowledge 


'  He  told  me,  that  when  he  made  his  first  declamation,  he  wrote  over  but  one  copy,  and 
that  coarsely;  and  having  given  it  into  the  hand  of  the  tutor,  was  obliged  to  begin  by  chance, 
and  continue  on  how  he  could,  for  he  had  got  but  little  of  it  by  heart ;  so,  fairly  trusting  to  his 
present  powers  for  immediate  supply,  he  finished  by  adding  astonishment  to  the  ajiplause  o( 
all  who  knew  how  little  was  owing  to  study.  A  prodigious  risli,  however,  said  some  one: 
"  Not  at  all,"  exclaims  Johnson ;  "  no  man,  I  suppose,  leaps  at  once  into  deep  water,  who 
does  not  know  how  to  swim." — Piozzi. 

'■^    Johnson  used  to  say,  ".He  scarcely  knew  a  noun  from  an  adverb." — Nichols. 

3  The  poem  having  been  shown  to  Pope,  by  a  son  of  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  then  a  gentleman 
commoner  of  Christ-church,  was  read,  and  returned  with  this  encomium,  "The  writer  of  this 
poem  will  leave  it  a  question  for  posterity,  whether  his  or  mine  be  the  original." — H.<wkiN9. 

*  John  Husbands  was  a  contemporary  of  Johnson  at  Pembroke  College,  having  beep 
admitted  a  Fellow  and  A.M.  in  1726.— Hall. 


^^^'^■^^-  PEMliKOKK    CULLKliE.  57 

uiyself  not  competent  to  decide  on  a  question  of  sucli  extreiiie  nicety. 
But  I  am  satisfied  witli  the  just  and  discriminative  eu  og-y  pro 
nounced  upon  it  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Courtenay. 

'*  And  with  like  ease  his  vivid  Hues  assume 
The  garb  and  dignity  of  ancient  Rome. 
Let  college  verse-men  trite  conceits  express, 
Trick'd  out  in  splendid  shreds  of  Virgil's  dress ; 
From  playful  Ovid  cull  the  tinsel  phrase, 
And  vapid  notions  hitch  in  pilfer'd  lays ; 
Then  with  mosaic  art  the  piece  combine, 
And  boast  the  glitter  of  each  dulcet  line  : 
Johnson,  adventured  boldly  to  transfuse 
His  vigorous  sense  into  the  Latin  muse  ; 
Aspired  to  shine  by  unreflected  light, 
And  with  a  Roman's  ardour  think  and  write. 
He  felt  the  tuneful  Xine  his  breast  inspire, 
And,  like  a  master,  waked  the  soothing  lyre  : 
Horatian  strains  a  grateful  heart  proclaim, 
While  Sky's  wild  rocks  resound  his  Thralia's  name. 
Hesperia's  plant,  in  some  less  skilful  hands. 
To  bloom  a  while,  factitious  heat  demands: 
Though  glowing  Maro  a  faint  w^irmth  supplies, 
The  sickly  blossom  in  the  hot-house  dies : 
By  Johnson's  genial  culture,  art,  and  toil, 
Its  root  strikes  deep,  and  owns  the  fost'ring  soil ; 
Lnbibes  our  sun  through  all  its  swelling  veins, 
And  grows  a  native  of  Britannia's  plains.' 

The  "  morbid  melancholy  "  which  was  lurking  in  his  constitution, 
and  to  which  we  may  ascribe  those  particularities,  and  that  aversion 
to  regular  life,  which,  at  a  very  early  period,  marked  his  character, 
gathered  such  strength  in  his  twentieth  year,  as  to  afflict  him  in  a 
dreadful  manner.  While  he  was  at  Lichfield,  in  the  college  vaca- 
tion of  the  year  1T29,'  he  felt  himself  overwhelmed  with  a  horrible 
hypochondria,  with  perpetual  iriitation,  fretfuhiess,  and  impatience  ; 

'  "Poetical  Review  of  the  Literary  and  Moral  Cliaracter  of  Dr.  Johnson,  by  John  Couite. 
nay,  Esq.,  M.P."  [Mr.  Courtenay  was  born  at  Carlingford,  in  1738.  lie  died  March  21, 
1815  ] 

2  It  seems,  as  Dr.  Hall  suggests,  probable  that  this  is  a  mistake  for  1730  :  Johnson  appears 
to  have  remained  in  college  during  the  vacation  of  1729,  and  we  have  no  trace  of  hip<  in 
the  year  1780,  during  which  he  was,  possibly,  labouring  under  this  malady,  and,  on  that 
■account,  absent  from  college. — Croeer. 


58  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


1729. 


and  with  a  dejection,  gloom,  and  despair,  which  made  existence 
misery.  From  this  dismal  malady  he  never  afterwards  was  perfectly 
relieved  ;  and  all  his  labours,  and  all  his  enjoyments,  were  but  tem- 
porary interruptions  of  its  baleful  influence.  How  wonderful,  how 
unsearchable  are  the  ways  of  God  !  Johnson,  who  was  blest  with 
all  the  powers  of  genius  and  understanding  in  a  degree  far  above  the 
ordinary  state  of  human  nature,  was  at  the  same  time  visited  with  a 
disorder  so  afflictive,  that  they  who  know  it  by  dire  experience  will 
not  envy  his  exalted  endowments.  That  it  was,  m  some  degree, 
occasioned  by  a  defect  in  his  nervous  system,  that  inexplicable  part 
of  our  frame,  appears  highly  probable.  He  told  Mr.  Paradise  '  that 
he  was  sometimes  so  languid  and  inefficient,  that  he  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  hour  upon  the  town  clock. 

Johnson,  upon  the  first  violent  attack  of  this  disorder,  strove  to 
overcome  it  by  forcible  exertions.  He  frequently  walked  to  Birming- 
ham and  back  again,  and  ti'ied  many  other  expedients,  but  all  in 
vain.  His  expression  concerning  it  to  me  was,  "  I  did  not  then 
know  how  to  manage  it."  His  distress  became  so  intolerable,  that 
he  applied  to  Dr.  Swinfeu,  physician  in  Lichfield,  his  god-father,  and 
put  into  his  hands  a  state  of  his  case,  written  in  Latin.  Dr.  Swiu- 
fen  was  so  much  struck  with  the  extraordinary  acuteness,  research, 
and  eloquence  of  this  paper,  that  in  his  zeal  for  his  godson  he 
showed  it  to  several  people.  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who 
was  many  years  humanely  supported  in  Dr.  Johnson's  house  in  Lou- 
don, told  me,  that  upon  his  discovering  that  Dr.  Swinfcn  had  com- 
municated his  case,  he  was  so  much  offended  that  he  was  never 
afterwards  fully  reconciled  to  him.  He  indeed  had  good  reason  to 
be  offended  ;  for  though  Dr.  Swinfen's  motive  was  good,  he  incun- 
Biderately  betrayed  a  matter  deeply  interesting  and  of  great  delicacy, 
which  had  been  intrusted  to  him  in  confidence  ;  and  exposed  a  com- 
plaint of  his  young  friend  and  patient,  which,  in  the  superficial  opinion 
of  the  generality  of  mankind,  is  attended  with  contempt  and  disgrace 

'  John  Paradise,  Esq.,  D.C.L.  of  Oxford,  and  F.R  S  ,  was  of  Greek  extraction,  the  son  of  the 
English  consul  at  Salonica,  where  he  was  born  :  he  was  educated  at  Padua,  but  resided  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  in  London,  in  the  literary  circles  of  which  he  was  generally  Jcnown,  and 
higlily  esteemed.  He  became  intimate  with  Jolinson  in  the  latter  portion  of  the  Pootor's 
life,  was  a  member  of  his  Essex  Street  club,  and  attended  his  funeral.  lie  died  December  Vi. 
1795. — Croker, 


^TiT.2o.  UYPOcnoXDiUA.  59 

But  let  uot  little  meu  triumph  upon  knowing  that  Johnson  was  an 
Hypocuoxdriac,  was  subject  to  wliat  the  learned,  philosophical,  and 
pious  Dr.  Cheyne  has  so  well  treated  under  the  title  of  "  The  Eng- 
lish Malady."  '  Though  he  suffered  severely  from  it,  he  was  uot 
therefore  degraded.  The  powers  of  his  great  miud  might  be 
troubled,  and  their  full  exercise  suspended  at  times,  but  the  mind 
itself  was  ever  entire.  As  a  proof  of  this,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
consider,  that,  when  he  was  at  the  very  worst,  he  "composed  that 
state  of  his  own  case,  which  showed  an  uncommon  vigour,  not  ouly 
of  fancy  and  taste,  but  of  judgment.  I  am  aware  that  he  himself 
was  too  ready  to  call  such  a  complaint  by  the  name  of  madness  ;  in 
conformity  with  which  notion,  he  has  traced  its  gradations,  with 
exquisite  nicety,  in  one  of  the  chapters  of  his  Rasselas."  But  there 
is  surely  a  clear  distinction  between  a  disorder  which  affects  only 
the  imagination  and  spirits,  while  the  judgment  is  sound,  and  a  dis- 
order by  which  the  judgment  itself  is  impaired.  This  distinction 
was  made  to  me  by  the  late  Professor  Gaubius,*  of  Leyden,  physician 
to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  in  a  conversation  which  I  had  with  him 
several  years  ago,  and  he  expanded  it  thus  :  "  If,"  said  he,  "  a  man 
tells  me  that  he  is  grievously  disturbed,  for  that  he  imagines  he  sees 
a  ruffian  coming  against  him  with  a  drawn  sword,  though  at  the 
same  time  he  is  conscious  it  is  a  delusion,  I  pronounce  him  to  have  a 
disordered  imagination  ;  but  if  a  man  tells  me  that  he  sees  this, 
mid  in  consternation  calls  to  me  to  look  at  it,  I  pronounce  him  to  be 
7nad." 

It  is  a  common  eifcct  of  low  spirits  or  melancholy,  to  make  those 
who  are  afflicted  with  it  imagine  that  they  are  actually  suffering 
those  evils  which  happen  to  be  most  strongly  presented  to  their 
minds.     Some  have  fancied  themselves  to  be  deprived  of  the  use  of 

1  Dr.  Mnson  Good  has  taken  the  very  words  of  Hamlet  to  describe  the  first  stage  of  this 
malady  : — "  I  have,  of  late  .  but,  wherefore  I  know  not),  lost  all  my  mirth  ;  foregone  all  cus- 
tom of  exercises ;  and,  indeed,  it  goes  so  heavily  with  my  disposition,  that  this  goodly  frame, 
the  earth,  seems  to  me  a  sterile  promontory ;  this  most  excellent  canopy,  the  air,  look  you, 
this  brave  o'erhanging  firmament,  this  majcstical  roof,  fretted  with  golden  fire,  why,  it 
appears  no  other  thing  to  me,  than  a  foul  and  pestilent  congregation  of  vapourjj." 

'■^    Chapter  43,  On  the  dangerous  Prevalence  of  Imagination. 

»  Jerome  David  Gaubius  was  born  at  Heidelberg,  in  1705.  He  died  in  I7S0,  leaving  seve- 
ral works  of  considerable  value.  A  translation  into  English  of  hb  "  Institutiones  Pathologiw 
Medicinalis  "  appeared  in  1779. 


60  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^729 

their  limbs,  some  to  labour  under  acute  diseases,  others  to  be  in 
extreme  poverty  ;  when,  in  truth,  there  was  not  the  least  reality  in 
any  of  the  suppositions  ;  so  that,  when  the  vapours  were  dispelled, 
they  were  convinced  of  the  delusion.  To  Johnson,  whose  supreme 
enjoyment  was  the  exercise  of  his  reason,  the  disturbance  or  obscura- 
tion of  that  faculty  was  the  evil  most  to  be  dreaded.  Insanity, 
therefore,  was  the  object  of  his  most  dismal  apprehension  ;  and  he 
fancied  himself  seized  by  it,  or  approaching  to  it,  at  the  very  time 
when  he  was  giving  proofs  of  a  more  than  ordinary  soundness  and 
vigour  of  judgment.  That  his  own  diseased  imagination  should  have 
60  far  deceived  him  is  strange  ;  but  it  is  stranger  still  that  some  of 
his  friends  should  have  given  credit  to  his  groundless  opinion,  when 
they  had  such  undoubted  jjroofs  that  it  was  totally  fallacious  ; 
though  it  is  by  no  means  surprising  that  those  who  wish  to  depre- 
ciate him  should,  .since  his  death,  have  laid  hold  of  this  circumstance, 
and  insisted  upon  it  with  very  unfair  figgravation.' 

Amidst  the  oppression  and  distraction  of  a  disease  which  very 
few  have  felt  in  its  full  extent,  but  many  *  have  experienced  in  a 
slighter  degree,  Johnson,  in  his  writings,  and  in  his  conversation, 
never  failed  to  display  all  the  varieties  of  intellectual  excellence. 

'  Johnson  says  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Warton  (Dec.  24,  1754),  "  Poor  dear  Collins  !  I  have  been 
often  near  hin  i-tale,  and  therefore  have  it  in  great  commiseration." — Croker. 

"^  Mr.  Boswell  was  himself  occasionally  aftlicted  with  this  morbid  depression  of  spirits,  and 
was,  at  intervals,  equally  lialjle  to  paroxysms  of  what  may  be  called  murhid  'eivcuity.  He 
wrote,  as  Mr.  D'Israeli  observes,  a  Series  of  Essays  in  the  London  Magazine,  under  the  title  o( 
the  "  Hypochondriac,"  commencing  in  1777,  and  carried  on  till  1782.— Crokbu. 

.Tan.  29,  1791,  Boswell  writes  thus  to  Mr.  Malonc — "I  have,  for  some  we<!ks,  had  the  most 
woful  return  of  melancholy,  in  so  much  tliat  I  have  not  only  had  no  relish  of  anytliing,  but  « 
continual  uneasiness  ;  and  all  the  prospect  before  me,  for  the  rest  of  life,  has  seemed  gloomy 
and  hopeless."  Again,  March  8 — "  In  the  night  between  the  last  of  Fc-bi  nary  and  first  of  this 
month,  I  had  a  sudden  relief  from  the  inexplicable  disorder,  which  oc.,asionally  clouds  my 
mind  and  makes  me  miserable." — From  the  originals  in  the  possession  ol  Mr.  ri)cott. 

^  "I  cannot  conceive  a  man  in  perfect  health  being  much  affected  by  a  charge  of  hypo- 
chniidriiicium,  because  his  complexion  and  conduct  must  amply  refute  It.  But,  were  it  true, 
to  what  does  it  amount?  to  an  impeachment  of  a  liver  complaint.  'I  will  tell  it  to  the 
world,' exclaimed  Smelfungus.  '  You  had  better,  said  I,  '  tell  it  to  your  jihysician.'  There 
is  nothing  dishonourable  in  such  a  disorder,  whicli  is  more  peculiarly  the  malady  of  students, 
It  has  been  the  complaint  of  the  good,  and  the  wise,  and  the  witty,  and  even  of  the  gay. 
Jtegnard,  the  author  of  tlie  best  French  comedy  after  Molicre,  was  atrabilious,  and  Moliere 
liimself  saturnine.  Dr.  Johnson,  Gray,  and  Burns,  were  all,  more  or  less,  affected  by  it  o(xa- 
Bion.ally.  It  was  the  prelude  to  the  more  awful  malady  of  Collins,  Cowper,  Swift,  and  Smart ; 
but  it  by  no  means  follows  Ih.at  a  partial  afllietion  of  this  disorder  is  to  terminate  like  theirs." 
Byron,  vol.  vi.  p.  390. 


2ETAT.  20. 


HYPOCHONDRIA.  61 


In  his  march  through  this  world  to  a  better,  his  mind  still  appeared 
grand  and  brilliant,  and  impressed  all  around  him  with  the  truth  of 
Virgil's  noble  sentiment — 

*'  Igneus  est  ollis  vigor  et  ctelestis  origo."  ' 

The  history  of  his  mind  as  to  religion  is  an  important  article.  1 
have  mentioned  the  early  impressions  made  upon  his  tender  imagi- 
nation by  his  mother,  who  continued  her  pious  cares  with  assiduity, 
but,  in  his  opinion,  not  with  judgment.  "  Sunday,"  said  he,  "  was 
a  heavy  day  to  me  when  I  was  a  boy.*  My  mother  confined  me  on 
that  day,  and  made  me  read  '  The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,'  from  a 
great  part  of  which  I  could  derive  no  instruction.  When,  for 
instance,  I  had  read  the  chapter  on  theft,  which  from  my  infancy  I 
had  been  taught  was  wrong,  I  was  no  more  convinced  that  theft 
was  wrong  than  before  ;  so  there  was  no  accession  of  knowledge. 
A  boy  should  be  introduced  to  such  books,  by  having  his  attention 
directed  to  the  arrangement,  to  the  style,  and  other  excellencies  of 
composition  ;  that  the  mind  being  thus  engaged  by  an  amusing 
variety  of  objects  may  not  now  weary." 

He  communicated  to  me  the  following  particulars  upon  the  sub- 
ject  of  his  religious  progress  :  "I  fell  into  an  inattention  to  reli- 
gion, or  an  indifference  about  it,  in  my  ninth  year.  The  church  at 
Lichfield  in  which  we  had  a  seat,  wanted  reparation,  so  I  was  to  go 
and  find  a  seat  in  other  churches  ;  and  having  bad  eyes,  and  being 
awkward  about  this,  I  used  to  go  and  read  in  the  fields  on  Sunday. 
This  habit  continued  till  my  fourteenth  year  ;  and  still  I  find  a  great 
reluctance  to  go  to  church.  I  then  became  a  sort  of  lax  talker 
against  religion,  for  I  did  not  much  think  against  it  ;  and  this  lasted 
till  I  went  to  Oxford,  where  it  would  not  be  suffered.     When  at 

»    "  Their  souls  at  first  from  high  Olympus  came  ; 
And,  if  not  blunted  by  the  mortal  frame, 
Th'  ethereal  fires  would  ever  burn  the  same." 

Drtden. 

i  See  some  judicious  remarks  on  the  happiest  mode  of  training  the  youthful  mind,  so  th»t 
religious  habits  may  be  associated  with  clieeyfidnenH,  by  Bishop  Jebb  (Sacred  Literature,  7). 
That  amiable  writer,  when  animadverting  on  this  passage,  is  somewhat  uncandid,  if  not 
unjust.  Surely,  those  deficiencies  in  spiritual  attainments,  which  Johnson  himself  lamented 
as  hiving  been  caused  either  by  neglect  or  injudicious  tieafment  in  his  boyhood,  ought  not  to 
be  included  in  the  catalogue  of  his  failings.— Mabkland. 


62  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1'29' 

Oxford,  I  took  up  '  Law's  '  Serious  Call  to  a  Holy  Life,'  expecting 
to  find  it  a  dull  book  (as  such  books  generally  are),  and  perhaps  to 
laugh  at  it.  But  I  found  Law  quite  an  overmatch  for  me  ;  and 
this  was  the  first  occasion  of  my  thinking  in  earnest  of  religion,  after 
I  became  capable  of  rational  inquiry."  ^  From  this  time  forward 
religion  was  the  predominant  object  of  his  thoughts  ;  though,  with 
the  just  sentiments  of  a  conscientious  Christian,  he  lamented  that 
his  practice  of  its  duties  fell  far  short  of  what  it  ought  to  be. 

This  instance  of  a  mind  such  as  that  of  Johnson  being  first  dis- 
posed, by  an  unexpected  incident,  to  think  with  anxiety  of  the 
momentous  concerns  of  eternity,  and  of  "  what  he  should  do  to  be 
saved,"  may  for  ever  be  produced  in  opposition  to  the  superficial 
and  sometimes  profane  contempt  that  has  been  thrown  upon  those 
occasional  impressions  which  it  is  certain  many  Christians  have 
experienced  :  though  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  weak  minds, 
from  an  erroneous  supposition  that  no  man  is  in  a  state  of  grace 
who  has  not  felt  a  particular   conversion,   have,   in   some   cases, 


'  William  Law  was  born  16S6,  entered,  in  1705,  of  Em.  Coll.  Camb.,  Fellow  in  1711,  and 
A.M.  in  1712.  On  the  accession  of  the  Hanover  family  he  refused  the  oaths.  He  was  tutor 
to  Mr.  Gibbon's  father,  at  Putney,  and  finally  retired,  with  two  pious  ladies,  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
and  Mrs.  Gibbon,  the  aunt  of  the  historian,  to  a  liind  of  conventual  seclusion  at  King's 
Cliffe,  his  native  place.     He  died  in  1761. — Croker. 

*  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  given  a  strange  fantastical  account  of  the  original  of  Dr.  Johnson's  belief 
in  our  most  holy  religion.  "  At  the  age  of  te^i  years  his  mind  was  disturbed  by  scruples  of 
infidelity,  which  preyed  upon  his  spirits,  and  made  him  very  uneasy,  the  more  so,  as  he 
revealed  his  uneasiness  to  none,  being  naturally  (as  he  said)  of  a  sullen  temper,  and  reserved 
disposition.  He  searched,  however,  diligently,  but  fruitlessly,  for  evidences  of  the  truth  of 
revelation  ;  and,  at  length,  recollecting  a  book  he  had  once  seen  in  his  father's  shop,  entitled 
"  De  Veritate  Religionis,"  etc.,  he  began  to  think  himself  highly  culpulile  for  neglecting  such 
a  means  of  information,  and  took  himself  severely  to  task  for  this  Si«,  adding  many  acts  of 
voluntary,  and  to  others  unknown,  penance.  The  first  opportunity  which  offered,  of  course, 
he  seized  the  book  with  avidity  ;  out,  on  examination,  not  finding  himiiclf  scholar  enoughto 
peruxe  its  contents  set  his  heart  at  rest ;  and  not  thinking  to  inquire  whether  there  were  any 
English  books  written  on  the  suliject,  followed  his  usual  amusements,  and  considered  his  coii- 
science  as  lightened  of  a  crime.  He  redoubled  his  diligence  to  learn  the  language  that  con- 
tained the  information  he  most  wished  for  ;  but  from  the  pain  which  guilt  had  given  him,  ho 
now  began  to  deduce  the  soul's  immortality,  which  was  the  point  that  belief  first  stopped  at  i 
and  from  that  mmncnt  resolving  to  })e  a  Christian,  became  one  of  the  most  zealous  and 
pious  ones  our  nation  ever  produced."  (Anecdotes,  p.  17.)  This  is  one  of  the  numerous  mis- 
representations of  this  lively  lady,  which  it  is  worth  while  to  correct ;  for  if  credit  should  be 
given  to  such  a  childish,  irrational,  aiul  ridiculous  statement  of  the  foundation  of  Dr.  John- 
son's faith  in  Christianity,  how  little  credit  would  be  due  to  it !  Mrs.  Piozzi  seems  to  wish, 
that  the  world  should  think  Dr.  Johnson  also  under  the  influence  of  that  easy  logic,  "  Stet 
pro  ratlone  voluntas." 


^'^T.  20.  READING    AT   OXFORD.  6S 

brouglit  a  degree  of  ridicule  upon  them  ;  a  ridicule,  of  whicli  it  is 
iaconsiderate  or  unfair  to  make  a  general  application. 

How  seriously  Johnson  was  impressed  with  a  sense  of  religion 
even  in  the  vigour  of  his  youth,  appears  from  the  following  passage 
in  his  minutes  kept  by  way  of  diary  :  "  Sept.  7,  1T36.  I  have  this 
day  entered  upon  my  28th  year.  Mayest  thou,  0  God,  enable  me, 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  to  spend  this  in  such  a  manner,  that  I  may 
receive  comfort  from  it  at  the  hour  of  death,  and  in  the  day  of 
judgment  !     Amen." 

Tiie  particular  course  of  his  reading  while  at  Oxford,  and  during 
the  time  of  vacation  which  he  passed  at  home,  cannot  be  traced.' 
Enough  has  been  said  of  his  irregular  mode  of  study.  He  told  me, 
that  from  his  earliest  years  he  loved  to  read  poetry,  but  hardly  ever 
read  any  poem  to  an  end  ;  that  he  read  Shakspeare  at  a  period  so 
early,  that  the  speech  of  the  ghost  in  Hamlet  terrified  him  when  he 
was  alone  ;  that  Horace's  Odes  were  the  compositions  in  which  he 
took  most  delight,*  and  it  was  long  before  he  liked  his  Epistles  and 
Satires.  He  told  me  what  he  read  solidly  at  Oxford  was  Greek  ; 
not  the  Grecian  historians,  but  Homer  and  Euripides,  and  now  and 
then  a  little  Epigram  ;  that  the  study  of  which  he  was  most  fond 
was  metaphysics,  but  he  had  not  read  much,  even  in  that  way.  I 
always  thought  that  he  did  himself  injustice  in  his  account  of  what 
he  had  read,  and  that  he  must  have  been  speaking  with  reference  to 
the  vast  portion  of  study  which  is  possible,  and  to  which  a  few 
scholars  in  the  whole  history  of  literature  have  attained  ;  for  when 
I  once  asked  him  whether  a  person,  whose  name  I  have  now  forgot- 
ten, studied  hard,  he  answered,  "  No,  sir.  I  do  not  believe  he 
studied  hard.  I  never  knew  a  man  who  studied  hard.  I  conclude, 
indeed,  from  the  effects,  that   some   men   have  studied  hard,   as 

*  He  Had  little  relish  for  mathematical  learning,  and  was  content  with  such  a  degree  of 
knowledge  in  physics,  as  he  could  not  but  acquire  in  the  ordinary  exercises  of  the  place  :  his 
fortunes  and  circumstances  had  determined  him  to  no  particular  course  of  study,  and  were 
Buch  as  seemed  to  exclude  him  from  every  one  of  the  learned  professions— Hawkins. 

2  Though  some  of  his  odes  are  easy,  and  in  what  he  no  doubt  thought  the  Horatian  style, 
we  shaU  see  that  to  Miss  Carter  he  confessed  a  fondness  for  Martial,  and  his  epigrams  cer- 
tainly were  inlluenced  by  that  partiality.  Dr.  Hall  has  a  small  volume  of  hendecasydabic 
poetry,  entitled  "Poetie  Kusticantis  Literatum  Otium,  sive  Carmina  Andrea;  Francisci  Lan- 
desu.  Lond.  1T13  ;"  which  belonged  to  Johnson,  and  some  peculiarities  of  the  style  of  ^heee 
verses  may  be  traced  in  his  college  compositions. — Cboker. 


64  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 


1729 


Beiitley  and  Clarke."  Trying  him  by  that  criterion  upon  which  he 
formed  his  judgment  of  others,  we  may  be  absolutely  certain,  both 
from  his  writings  and  his  conversation,  that  his  reading  was  very 
extensive.  Dr.  Adam  Smith,'  than  whom  few  were  better  judges 
on  this  subject,  once  observed  to  me,  that  "Johnson  knew  more 
books  than  any  man  alive."  He  had  a  peculiar  facility  in  seizing  at 
once  what  was  valuable  in  any  book,  without  submitting  to  the 
labour  of  perusing  it  from  beginning  to  end.  He  had,  from  the 
irritability  of  his  constitution,  at  all  times,  an  impatience  and  hurry 
when  he  either  read  or  wrote.  A  certain  apprehension  arising  from 
novelty,  made  him  write  his  first  exercise  at  college  twice  over  ;  but 
he  never  took  that  trouble  with  any  other  composition  ;  and  we 
shall  see  that  his  most  excellent  works  were  struck  off  at  a  heat, 
with  rapid  exertion." 

Yet  he  appears,  from  his  early  notes  or  memorandums  in  my  pos- 
session, to  have  at  various  times  attempted,  or  at  least  planned,  a 
methodical  course  of  study,  according  to  computation,  of  which  he 
was  all  his  life  fond,  as  it  fixed  his  attention  steadily  upon  something 
without,  and  prevented  his  mind  from  preying  upon  itself.  Thus  I 
find  in  his  handwriting  the  number  of  lines  in  each  of  two  of  Euri- 
pides's  Tragedies,  of  the  Georgics  of  Virgil,  of  the  first  six  books 
of  the  JEneid,  of  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  of  three  of  the  books  of 
Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  of  some  parts  of  Theocritus,  and  of  the  tenth 
Satire  of  Juvenal  ;  and  a  table  showing  at  the  rate  of  various  num- 
bers a  day  (I  suppose,  verses  to  be  read),  what  would  be  in  each 
case,  the  total  amount  in  a  week,  month,  and  year.* 

No  man  had  a  more  ardent  love  of  literature,  or  a  higher  respect 
for  it,  than  Johnson.     His  apartment  in  Pembroke  College  was  that 

1  Boswell  might  have  selected,  if  not  a  better  judge,  at  least  better  authority;  for  Adam 
Smith  had  comparatively  little  intercourse  with  Johnson,  and  the  sentence  pronounced  is  one 
which  could  only  be  justified  by  an  intimate  literary  acquaintance.  But  Boswell's  naiian- 
ulity  (though  he  fancied  he  had  quite  subdued  it)  inclined  him  to  quote  the  eminent  Scotcb 
professor.     We  shall  see  many  instances  of  a  similar  (not  illaudable)  disposition. — Crokeh. 

"^  He  told  Dr.  Burnej%  that  he  never  wrote  any  of  his  works  that  were  printed  twice  over. 
Dr.  Burney's  wonder  at  seeing  several  pages  of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  in  manuscript,  with 
scarce  a  blot  or  erasure,  drew  this  observation  from  him. — Malonb. 

^  "I  resolve  to  study  the  Scriptures ;  I  hope  in  the  original  languages.  Six  hundred  and 
forty  verses  every  Sunday  will  nearly  comprise  the  Scriptures  in*a  year.  The  plan  which  I 
formed  for  reading  the  Scriptures  was  to  read  six  hundred  verses  in  the  Old  Testament,  and 
kWO  hundred  in  the  New,  every  weelc." — Prayers  and  Med, 


^■■'•^f •  ^O.  PEMBROKE    COLLEGE.  65 

upon  the  second  floor  over  the  gateway.  The  entlmsia.st  of  learniug 
will  ever  contemplate  it  with  veneration.  One  day,  while  he  was 
sitting  in  it  quite  alone,  Dr.  Panting,'  then  master  of  the  College, 
whom  he  called  "  a  fiiie  Jacobite  fellow,"  overheard  him  uttering  this 
soliloquy  in  his  strong,  emphatic  voice :  "  Well,  I  have  a  mind  to 
see  what  is  done  in  other  places  of  learning.  I'll  go  and  visit  the 
universities  abroad.  I'll  go  to  France  and  Italy.  I'll  go  to  Padua. 
And  I'll  mind  my  business.  For  an  Athenian  blockhead  is  the  worst 
of  all  blockheads."  "■' 

Dr.  Adams  told  me  that  Johnson,  while  he  was  at  Pembroke  Col- 
lege, "  was  caressed  and  loved  by  all  about  him,  was  a  gay  and  frol- 
icsome fellow,  and  passed  there  the  happiest  part  of  his  life."  But 
this  is  a  striking  propf  of  the  fallacy  of  appearances,  and  how  little 
any  of  us  know  of  the  real  internal  state  even  of  those  whom  we  see 
most  frequently ;  for  the  truth  is,  that  he  was  then  depressed  by 
poverty,  and  irritated  by  disease.  When  I  mentioned  to  him  this 
account,  as  given  me  by  Dr.  Adams,  he  said,  "  Ah,  sir,  I  was  mad 
and  violent.  It  was  bitterness  which  they  mistook  for  frolic.  I  was 
raiseraljly  poor,  and  I  thought  to  fight  my  way  by  my  literature  and 
my  wit  ;  so  I  disregarded  all  power  and  all  authority." 

The  Bishop  of  Dromore  observes  in  a  letter  to  me,  "  The  pleasure 
he  took  in  vexing  the  tutors  and  fellows  has  been  often  mentioned. 
But  I  have  heard  him  say,  what  ought  to  be  recorded  to  the  honour 
of  the  present  venerable  master  of  that  college,  the  Reverend 
William  Adams,  D.D.,  who  was  then  very  young,"  and  one  of  the 
junior  fellows  :  that  the  mild  but  judicious  expostulations  of  this 
worthy  man,  whose  virtue  awed  him,  and  whose  learning  he  revered, 

>    Dr.  Matthew  Panting  died  Feb.  12, 1739.    See  Gent.  Mag.,  vol.  ix.  p.  106. 
■•'  I  had  this  anecdote  from  Dr.  Adams,  and  Di-.  Johnson  confirmed  it.    Bramston,  in  his 
•'Man  of  Taste,"  has  the  same  thought: 

"  Sure  of  all  blockheads,  scholars  are  the  worst." — Boswell. 

Johnson's  meaning,  however,  is,  that  a  scholar  who  is  a  blockhead,  must  be  the  worst  of  all 
blockheads,  because  he  is  without  excuse.  But  Bramston,  in  the  assumed  character  of  an 
ignoi-ant  coxcomb,  maintains,  that  all  scholars  are  blockheads,  on  account  of  their  scholar- 
ship.— J.  Boswell,  jun. 

'  Dr.  Adams  was  about  two  years  older  than  Johnson,  having  been  born  in  1707.  He 
became  a  Fellow  of  Pembroke  in  1723,  D.D.  in  17.')6,  and  Master  of  the  College  in  1775.— Hall. 


66  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON,  ^'^• 

made  him  really  ashamed  of  himself, '  though  I  fear,'  said  he,  '  I  was 
too  proud  to  own  it.' 

"  I  have  heard  from  some  of  his  contemporaries  that  he  was  gener- 
ally seen  lounging  at  the  college  gate,  with  a  circle  of  young  students 
round  him,  whom  he  was  entertaining  with  wit,  and  keeping  from 
their  studies,  if  not  spiriting  them  up  to  rebellion  against  the  college 
discipline,  which  in  his  matui'er  years  he  so  much  extolled." ' 

He  very  early  began  to  attempt  keeping  notes  or  memorandums, 
by  way  of  a  diary  of  his  life.  I  find,  in  a  parcel  of  loose  leaves,  the 
following  spirited  resolution  to  contend  against  his  natural  indolence  : 
"  Oct.  1129.  DcsidicB  valedixi ;  syrenis  istius  cantibus  surdam  posthac 
aurem  obversurus.  I  bid  farewell  to  Sloth,  being  resolved  henceforth 
not  to  listen  to  her  syren  strains."  I  have  also  in  my  possession  a 
few  leaves  of  another  Libellus,  or  little  book,  entitled  "Annales," 
in  which  some  of  the  early  particulars  of  his  history  are  registered 
in  Latin. 

I  do  not  find  that  he  formed  any  close  intimacies  with  his  fellow 

'  There  are  preserved,  in  Pembroke  College,  some  of  these  themes,  or  exercises,  both  lo 
prose  and  verse  ^  the  following,  though  the  two  first  lines  are  awkward,  has  more  point  and 
pleasantry  than  his  epigrams  usually  have.  It  may  be  surmised  that  the  college  beer  was  at 
this  time  indifferent : 

"  Moa  nee  Falernm 
Temperani  viies,  neque  Formiani 
Pocula  colles." 

"  Quid  mirum  Maro  quod  digne  canit  arma  virumque, 

Quid  quod  putidulum  nostra  Cameena  sonat  ? 
Limosum  nobis  Promus  dat  callidus  haustum, 

A'irgilio  vires  uva  Falerna  dedit. 
Carmina  vis  nostri  scribant  meliora  Poetaj? 

Ingenium  jubeas  purior  haustus  alat!" 

Another  is  in  a  graver  and  better  style : 

"  Adjecere  honce  paulo plus  artis  Athence." 

"Quas  natura  dedit  dotes,  Academia  promit ; 
Dat  menti  propriis  Musa  nit  ere  bonis. 
Materiam  statuae  sic  prsebet  marmora  tellus, 
Saxea  Phidiaca  spiral  imago  manu." 

Johnson  repeated  this  idea  in  the  Latin  verses  on  the  termination  of  his  Dictionary,  entitled 
rNflOI  2EATT0N,  but  not,  as  1  think,  so  elegantly  as  in  the  epigram.— Crokek.  [Th» 
thought  is  beautifully  expressed  in  the  Spectator,  by  Addison,  No.  415.] 


*^AT.  21.  PEMUROKE    COLLEGE.  67 

collegians.  But  Dr.  Adams  told  me,  that  be  contracted  a  love  and 
regard  for  Pembroke  College,  which  he  retained  to  the  last.  A  short 
time  before  his  death,  he  sent  to  that  college  a  present  of  all  his 
works,'  to  be  deposited  in  their  library  :  and  he  had  thoughts  of 
leaving  to  it  his  house  at  Lichfield  ;  but  his  friends  who  were  about 
him  very  properly  dissuaded  him  from  it,  and  he  bequeathed  it  to 
some  poor  relations.  He  took  a  pleasure  in  boasting  of  the  many 
eminent  men  who  had  been  educated  at  Pembroke.  In  this  list  are 
found  the  names  of  Mr.  Hawkins  the  Poetry  Professor,  Mr.  Sheu- 
stoue,  Sir  William  Blackstone,  and  others  ; '  not  forgetting  the  cele- 
brated popular  preacher,  Mr.  George  Whitefield,  of  whom,  though 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  think  very  highly,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
his  eloquence  was  powerful,  his  views  pious  and  charitable,  his  assi- 
duity almost  incredible.;  and  that,  since  his  death,  the  integrity  of 
his  character  has  been  fully  vindicated.  Being  himself  a  poet,  John- 
son was  peculiarly  happy  in  mentioning  how  many  of  the  sons  of 
Pembroke  were  poets  ;  adding,  with  a  smile  of  sportive  triumph, 
"  Sir,  we  are  a  nest  of  singing-birds." 

He  was  not,  however,  blind  to  what  he  thought  the  defects  of  his 
own  college  :  and  I  have,  from  the  information  of  Dr.  Taylor,  a 
very  strong  instance  of  that  rigid  honesty  which  he  ever  inflexibly 
preserved.  Taylor  had  obtained  his  father's  consent  to  be  entered 
of  Pembroke,  that  he  might  be  with  his  schoolfellow  Johnson,  with 
whom,  though  some  years  older  than  himself,  he  was  very  intimate. 
This  would  have  been  a  great  comfort  to  Johnson.  But  he  fairly 
told  Taylor  that  he  could  not,  in  conscience,  suffer  him  to  enter  where 
he  knew  he  could  not  have  an  able  tutor.  He  then  made  enquiry 
all  round  the  university,  and  having  found  that  Mr.  Batenian,  of 
Christ-church,  was  the  tutor  of  highest  reputation,  Taylor  was 
entered  of  that  college.'     Mr.  Bateman's  lectures  were  so  excellent, 

'  Certainly,  not  all ;  and  those  which  we  have  are  not  all  marked  as  presented  by  Wra.— 
Hall. 

^  To  the  list  should  be  added,  Francis  Beaumont,  the  dramatic  writer ;  Sir  Thomas  Browne, 
whose  life  Johnson  wrote;  Sir  James  Dyer,  twenty-four  years  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's 
Bench ;  Lord  Chancellor  Harcourt ;  the  celebrated  John  Pym  ;  Francis  Rous,  the  Speaker  of 
Cromwell's  parliament,  and  the  infamous  Bishop  Bonner. — W.  Smith,  Jr. 

2  Circumstantially  as  this  story  is  told,  there  is  good  reason  for  disbelieving  It.  Taylor  waa 
admitted  commoner  of  Christ-church,  June  27, 1730:  but  it  will  be  seen,  that  Johnson  lef* 
Oxford  six  months  before. — Crokeb. 


LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


1T81. 


that  Johason  used  to  come  and  get  them  at  second-hand  from  Tay- 
lor, till  his  poverty  being  so  extreme,  that  his  shoes  were  worn  out, 
and  his  feet  appeared  through  them,  he  saw  that  this  humiliating 
circumstance  was  perceived  by  the  Christ-church  men,  and  he  came 
no  more.  He  was  too  proud  to  accept  of  money,  and  somebody 
having  set  a  pair  of  new  shoes  at  his  door,  he  threw  them  away  with 
indignation.  How  must  we  feel  when  we  read  such  an  anecdote  of 
Samuel  Johnson  ! 

His  spirited  refusal  of  an  eleemosynary  supply  of  shoes  arose,  no 
doubt,  from  a  proper  pride.  But,  considering  his  ascetic  disposition 
at  times,  as  acknowledged  by  himself  in  his  Meditations,  and  the 
exaggeration  with  which  some  have  treated  the  peculiarities  of  his 
character,  I  should  not  wonder  to  hear  it  ascribed  to  a  principle  of 
superstitious  mortification  ;  as  we  are  told  by  Tursellinus,  in  his  Life 
of  St.  Ignatius  ■  Loyola,  that  this  intrepid  founder  of  the  order  of 
Jesuits,  when  he  arrived  at  Goa,  after  having  made  a  severe  pil- 
grimage through  the  eastern  deserts,  persisted  in  wearing  his  miser- 
able shattered  shoes,  and  when  new  ones  were  offered  him,  rejected 
them  as  an  unsuitable  indulgence. 

The  res  angusta  domi  prevented  him  from  having  the  advantage 
of  a  complete  academical  education.  The  friend  to  whom  he  had 
trusted  for  support  had  deceived  him.  His  debts  in  college,  though 
not  great,  were  increasing  ;  and  his  scanty  remittances  from  Lich- 
field, which  had  all  along  been  made  with  great  difficulty,  could  be 
supplied  no  longer,  his  father  having  fallen  into  a  state  of  insolvency. 
Compelled,  therefore,  by  irresistible  necessity,  he  left  the  college  in 
autumn,  1131,  without  a  degree,  having  been  a  member  of  it  little 
more  than  three  years.* 


1  It  will  be  observed,  that  Mr.  Boswell  slurs  over  the  years  1729,  1780,  and  1731,  under  the 
general  inference  that  they  were  all  spent  at  Oxford  ;  but  Dr.  Hall's  accurate  statement  of 
dates  from  the  college  books  proves,  that  Johnson  personaUy  left  College  Dec.  12,  1729, 
though  his  name  remained  on  the  books  till  Oct.  8,  1731.  Here,  then,  are  two  important 
years,  the  21st  and  22d  of  his  age,  to  be  accounted  for ;  and  Mr.  Boswell's  assertion  (a  little 
fai'ther  on),  that  he  could  not  have  been  assistant  to  Anthony  Blackwall,  because  Blackwall 
died  in  1730,  before  Johnson  had  left  college,  falls  to  the  ground.  That  these  two  years  were 
not  pleasantly  or  profitably  spent,  may  be  inferred  from  the  silence  of  Johnson  and  all  his 
friends  about  them.  It  is  due  to  Pembroke  to  note  particularly  tliis  absence,  because  that 
Institution  possesses  two  scholarships,  to  one  of  which  Johnson  would  have  been  eligible,  and 
probably  (considering  his  claims)  elected,  in  1730,  had  he  been  a  candidate. — Cbokek. 


*''*''•  ^-  PEMBROKE    Cv)LLEGE.  69 

Dr.  Adams,  the  worthy  and  respectable  master  of  Pembroke  Col- 
lege, has  generally  had  the  reputation  of  being  Johnson's  tutor. 
The  fact,  however,  is,  that  in  1731,  Mr.  Jorden  quitted  the  college, 
and  his  pupils  were  transferred  to  Dr.  Adams  ;  so  that  had  Johnson 
returned.  Dr.  Adams  v^ould  have  been  his  tutor.     It  is  to  be  wished, 
that  this  connection  had  taken  place.     His  equal  temper,  mild  dis- 
position, and  politeness  of  manners,  might  have  insensibly  softened 
the  harshness  of  Johnson,  and  infused  into  him  those  more  delicate 
charities,  those  pefites  morales,  in  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  our 
great  moralist  was  more  deficient  than  his  best  friends  could  fully 
justify.     Dr.  Adams  paid  Johnson  this  high  compliment.     He  said 
to  me  at  Oxford,  in  11*16,  "  I  was  his  nominal  tutor  ;  but  he  was 
above  my  mark."     When  I  repeated  it  to  Johnson,  his  eyes  flashed 
with  grateful  satisfaction,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  That  was  liberal  and 
noble." ' 


1  If  Adams  called  himself  his  nominal  tutor,  only  because  the  pupil  was  above  his  mark, 
the  expression  would  be  liberal  and  noble ;  but  if  he  was  his  nominal  tutor,  only  because  be 
would  have  been  his  tutor  if  Johnson  had  returned,  the  case  is  different,  and  Boswell  is, 
either  way,  guilty  of  an  inaccuracy.— Croker.  Johnson's  ivtme,  after  the  retirement  o: 
Jorden,  must  have  appeared  on  the  College  books  among  the  pupils  of  Adams. 

"  There  was  nothing  marked  in  Dr.  Adams's  connection  with  Dr.  Johnson,  from  whictl  ht 
might,  with  propriety,  be  styled  his  tutor."— Dr.  Parr,  Nichols's  Illust.  vol.  r.  p.  277. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

1731—1736. 

Johnson  leaves  Oxford— Death  of  his  Father— Mr.  Gilbert  Walmesley— Captain  Gai-rlck— 
Mrs.  Hill  Boothby — "  Molly  Aston" — Johnson  becomes  Usher  of  Market-Bosworth  School— 
iemoves  to  Birmingham — Translates  Lobo's  Voyages  to  Abyssinia — Returns  to  Lichfield — 
Proposes  to  print  the  Latin  Poems  of  Politian — Offers  to  write  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 
— His  juvenile  Attachments — Marries — Opens  a  private  Academy  at  Edial — David  Garrick 
his  Pupil — Commences  "Irene." 

And  now  (I  had  almost  said  poor)  Samuel  Johnson  returned  to  his 
native  city,  destitute,  and  not  knowing  how  he  should  gain  even 
a  decent  livelihood.  His  father's  misfortunes  in  trade  rendered  him 
unable  to  support  his  son  ;  ^  and  for  some  time  there  appeared  no 
means  by  which  he  could  maintain  himself.  In  the  December 
of  this  year  his  father  died. 

The  state  of  poverty  in  which  he  died  appears  from  a  note  in  one 
of  Johnson's  little  diaries  of  the  following  year,  which  strongly  dis- 
plays his  spirit  and  virtuous  dignity  of  mind. 

"  1732,  Julii  15.  Undecim  aiireos  deposni,  quo  die  quicquid  ante 
matris  fimus  (quod  scruvi  sit  prccor)  de  pateniis  bonis  sperari  licet, 
viginti  scilicet  libras,  accepi.  Usc[ue  adco  mihi  fortuna  fingenda  est. 
Intcrea,  nc  pmopertate  vires  animi  laiiguescant,  nee  in  Jlagitia  egestas 
abigat,  cavendum.  I  layed  by  eleven  guineas  on  this  day,  when 
1  received  twenty  pounds,  being  all  that  I  have  reason  to  hope  for 
out  of  my  father's  effects,  previous  to  the  death  of  my  mother  ; 
an  event  which  I  pray  God  may  be  very  remote.  I  now  therefore 
see  that  I  miist  make  my  own  fortune.  Meanwhile,  let  me  take 
care  that  the  powers  of  my  mind  be  not  debilitated  by  poverty,  and 
that  indigence  do  not  force  me  into  any  criminal  act." 

*  Johnson's  father,  either  during  his  continuance  at  the  university,  or  possibly  before,  had 
been  by  misfortunes  rendered  insolvent,  if  not,  as  Johnson  told  me,  an  actual  bankrupt.  - 
Hawkins,  p.  17. 
70 


-^^^^•22.  LICHFIELD.  fl 

Johnson  was  so  far  fortunate,  that  the  respectable  character  of 
his  parents,  and  his  own  merit,  had,  from  his  earliest  years,  secured 
him  a  kind  reception  in  the  best  families  at  Lichfield.  Among  these 
I  can  mention  Mr.  Howard,  Dr.  Swinfen,  Mr.  Simpson,  Mr.  Levett, 
Captain  Garrick,  father  of  the  great  ornament  of  the  British  stage  ; 
but  above  all,  Mr.  Gilbert  Walraesley,'  Registrar  of  the  Ecclesiasti- 
cal Court  of  Lichfield,  whose  character,  long  after  his  decease, 
Dr.  Johnson  has,  in  his  life  "of  Edmund  Smith,  thus  drawn  in 
the  glowing  colours  of  gratitude  : ' 

"  Of  Gilbert  Walmesley,  thus  presented  to  my  mind,  let  me  indulge  myself 
in  the  remembrance.  I  knew  him  very  early ;  he  was  one  of  the  first  friends 
that  literature  procured  me,  and  I  hope,  that  at  least  my  gratitude  made  me 
worthy  of  his  notice. 

"  He  was  of  an  advanced  age,  and  I  was  only  not  a  boy,  yet  he  never 
received  my  notions  with  contempt.  He  was  a  Whig,  with  all  the  virulence 
wd  malevolence  of  his  party  ;  yet  difference  of  opinion  did  not  keep  us  apart. 
I  honoured  him,  and  he  endured  me. 

"  He  had  mingled  with  the  gay  world  without  exemption  from  its  vices  or 
its  follies;  but  had  never  neglected  the  cultivation  of  his  mind.  His  belief  of 
revelation  was  unshaken;  his  learning  preserved  his  principles;  he  grew  first 
regular,  and  then  pious. 

"  His,  studies  had  been  so  various,  that  I  am  not  able  to  name  a  man  o« 
equal  knowledge.  His  acquaintance  with  books  was  great,  and  what  he  did 
not  immediately  know,  he  could,  at  least,  tell  where  to  find.  Such  was  hia 
amplitude  of  learning,  and  such  his  copiousness  of  communication,  that  it  may 
b«  doubted  whether  a  day  now  passes,  in  which  I  have  not  some  advantage 
from  his  friendship. 

"  At  this  man's  table  I  enjoyed  many  cheerful  and  instructive  hours,  with 
companions  such  as  are  Hot  often  found — with  one  who  has  lengthened,  and 
one  who  has  gladdened  life ;  with  Dr.  James,  whose  skill  in  physic  will  be  long 
remembered;  and  with  David  Garrick,  whom  I  hoped  to  have  gratified  with 
this  character  of  our  common  friend.  But  what  are  the  hopes  of  man  !  I  am 
disappointed  by  that  stroke  of  death  M'hich  has  eclipsed  the  gaiety  of  nations, 
and  impoverished  the  public  stock  of  harmless  pleasure." 

•  Mr.  Warton  informs  me,  that  this  early  friend  of  Johnson  was  entered  a  Commoner  of 
Trinity  of  College,  Oxford,  aged  17,  in  169S ;  and  is  the  author  of  many  Latin  verse  transla 
tions  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine.  One  of  them  [vol.  xv.  p.  10'2]  is  a  translation  of  "My 
time,  0  ye  Muses,  was  happily  spent,"  &c.  He  died  August  3,  1751,  and  a  monument  to  his 
memory  has  been  erected  in  the  cathedral  of  Lichfield,  with  »n  inscription  written  by  Mr. 
Seward,  one  of  the  preoendaries. 

*  The  Life  of  Smith  appeared  in  1779. 


72  lIfE  of  JOHNSON.  1^^- 

In  these  families  he  passed  much  time  in  his  early  years.  In  most 
of  them  he  was  in  the  company  of  ladies,  particularly  at  Mr.  Walmes- 
ley's,  whose  wife  and  sisters-in-law,  of  the  name  of  Aston,  and 
daughters  of  a  baronet,  were  remarkable  for  good  breeding  :  so  that 
the  notion  which  has  been  industriously  circulated  and  believed,  that 
he  never  was  in  good  company  till  late  in  life,  and,  consequently, 
had  been  confirmed  in  coarse  and  ferocious  manners  by  long  habits, 
is  wholly  without  foundation.  Some  of  the  ladies  have  assured  me, 
they  recollected  him  well  when  a  young  man,  as  distinguished  for 
his  complaisance. 

And  that  his  politeness  was  not  merely  occasional  and  temporary, 
or  confined  to  the  circles  of  Lichfield,  is  ascertained  by  the  tes- 
timony of  a  lady,  who,  in  a  paper  with  which  I  have  been  favored 
by  a  daughter  of  his  intimate  friend  and  physician.  Dr.  Lawrence, 
thus  describes  Dr,  Johnson  some  years  afterwards  : 

"As  the  particulars  of  the  former  part  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life  do  not  seem  to 
be  very  accurately  known,  a  lady  hopes  that  the  following  information  may 
not  be  unacceptable.  She  remembers  Dr.  Johnson  on  a  visit  to  Dr.  Taylor,' 
at  Ashbourn,  some  time  between  the  end  of  the  year  3Y,  and  the  middle  of  the 
year  40 ;  she  rather  thinks  it  to  have  been  after  he  and  his  wife  were  removed 
to  London.  During  his  stay  at  Ashbourn,  he  made  frequent  visits  to  Mr.  Mey- 
nell,  at  Bradley,  where  his  company  was  much  desired  by  the  ladies  of  the 
family,  who  were,  perhaps,  in  point  of  elegance  and  accomplishments,  inferior 
to  few  of  those  with  whom  he  was  afterwards  acquainted.  Mr.  Meynell's 
eldest  daughter  w^s  afterwards  married  to  Mr.  Fitzherbert,  father  to  Mr. 
Alleyne  Fitzherbert, "  lately  minister  to  the  court  of  Russia.  Of  her.  Dr.  John- 
son said,  in  Dr.  Lawrence's  study,  that  she  had  the  best  understanding  he  ever 
met  with  in  any  human  being.  At  Mr.  Meynell's  he  also  commenced  that 
friendship  with  Mrs.  Hill  Boothby,''  sister  to  the  present  Sir  Brook  Boothby, 
which  continued  till  her  death.  The  young  woman  whom  he  used  to 
call  Molly  Aston,  *  was    sister    to  Sir  Thomas   Aston,  *   and  daughter  to  a 

1  Dr.  Taylor  must  have  been  at  this  time  a  very  young  man.  His  residence  at  Ashbourn  wai 
patrhuonial,  and  not  ecclesiastical ;  and  the  house  and  grounds  which  Dr.  Johnson's  visits 
have  rendered  remarkable,  are  now  the  property  of  Mr.  Webster,  Dr.  Taylor's  legatee.— 
Croker. 

^    Afterwards  Lord  St  Helens. 

'  Miss  Boothby  was  born  in  1708,  and  died  in  1756.  For  the  last  three  years  of  her  life  this 
^dy  corresponded  with  Dr.  Johnson,  and  some  other  letters  are  inserted  in  the  Appendix  to 
VO).  iv. 

*  The  words  of  Sir  John  Hawkins,    {^etpont.) 

'  Sir  Thomas  Aston,  Barton,  Bart.,  who  died  in  January  1724-5,  left  one  son,  named  Thomai 


'*^'^^T.  22.  MARKET-BOSWORTH.  73 

jaronet ;  she  was  also  sister  to  the  wife  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Gilbert  Walmes- 
ley.  Besides  his  intimacy  with  the  above-mentioned  persons,  who  were  surely 
people  of  rank  and  education,  while  he  was  yet  at  Lichfield  he  used  to  be  fre- 
quently at  the  house  of  Dr.  Swinfen,  a  gentleman  of  very  ancient  family  in 
Staffordshire,  from  which,  after  the  death  of  his  elder  brother,  he  inherited  a 
good  estate.  He  was,  besides,  a  physician  of  very  extensive  practice ;  but  for 
want  of  due  attention  to  the  management  of  his  domestic  concerns,  left  a  very 
.arge  family  in  indigence.  One  of  his  daughters,  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  afterwards 
found  an  asylum  in  the  house  of  her  old  friend,  whose  doors  were  always  open 
to  f'e  unfortunate,  and  who  well  observed  the  precept  of  the  Gospel,  for  he 
*  was  kind  to  the  unthankful  and  to  the  evil.' "  ' 

•  In  the  forlorn  state  of  his  circumstances,  he  accepted  of  an  offer 
to  ^e  employed  as  usher '  in  the  school  of  Market-Bosworth,  in  Lei- 
cestershire, to  which  it  appears,  from  one  of  his  little  fragments  of 

also,  and  eight  daughters.  Of  the  daughters,  Catharine  married  Johnson's  friend,  the  Hon. 
Henry  Uervey  ;  Margaret,  Gilbert  Walmesley.  Another  of  these  ladies  [Jane]  married  the 
Bev.  Mr.  Gastrell  [the  man  who  cut  down  Shakspeare's  mulberry-tree] ;  Mary,  or  Molly 
Aston,  as  she  was  usually  called,  became  the  wife  of  Captain  Brodie  of  the  nayy.  Another 
Bister,  who  was  unmarried,  was  living  at  Lichfield  in  17T6. — Malone.     [She  died  in  1785.] 

'  Here  Mr.  Boswell  has  admitted  the  insinuation  of  an  anonymous  informant  against  poor 
Mrs.  Desmoulins,  as  bitter,  surely,  as  anything  which  can  be  charged  against  any  of  his  rival 
biographers ;  and,  strange  to  say,  this  scandal  is  conveyed  in  a  quotation  from  the  book  of 
Charity.  Mrs.  Desmoulins  was,  probably,  not  popular  with  "  the  ladies  of  Lichfield."  She  is 
supposed  to  have  forfeited  the  protection  of  her  own  family  by,  what  tliey  thought,  a  dero. 
j;atory  marriage.     Her  husband,  it  is  said,  was  a  writing-master. — Croker. 

"  It  has  appeared,  since  Boswell  wrote,  that  Johnson  had  been  endeavouring,  the  year 
before  this,  to  obtain  the  situation  of  usher  at  the  Grammar  School  of  Stourbridge,  where  he 
himself  had  been  partly  educated.  The  following  letter  of  thanks  to  the  schoolmaster,  who 
had  tried  to  help  him  on  that  occasion,  was  first  published  in  the  Manchester  Herald,  and 
afterwards  inserted  in  Nichols's  Literary  Anecdotes,  vol.  viii.,  p.  416  : 

"  TO   MR.    GEOROE   HICKMAN. 

"  Lichfield,  Octohfr  80, 1731. 
"Sir: — I  have  so  long  neglected  to  return  you  thanks  for  the  favour  and  assistance 
received  from  you  at  Stourbridge,  that  I  am  afiaid  you  have  now  done  expecting  it.  I  can, 
'adeed,  make  no  apology,  but  by  assuring  you  that  this  delay,  whatever  was  the  cause  of  it, 
proceeded  neither  from  forgetfulness,  disrespect,  nor  ingratitude.  Time  has  not  made  th< 
sense  of  obligation  less  warm,  nor  the  thanks  I  return  less  sincere.  But  while  I  am  acknow- 
ledging one  favour,  1  must  beg  another — that  you  would  excuse  the  composition  of  the  verses 
you  desired.  Be  pleased  to  consider,  that  versifying  against  one's  inclination  is  the  most 
disagreeable  thing  hi  the  world;  and  that  one's  own  disappointment  is  no  inviting  subject; 
and  that  though  the  gratifying  of  you  might  have  prevailed  over  my  dislike  of  it,  yet  it  proves 
upon  reflection,  so  barren,  that,  to  attempt  to  write  upon  it,  is  to  undertake  to  build  wilhou 
mai  •'rials.  As  I  am  yet  unemployed,  I  hope  you  will,  if  anything  should  offer,  remember  aai 
ccommend,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnsm'  " 

4 


t4  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^^ 

a  diary,  that  he  went  on  foot,  on  the  16th  of  July. — "  Julii  lo 
Bosvortiam  peeler  petii."  But  it  is  not  true,  as  has  been  erroneously 
related,  that  he  was  assistant  to  the  famous  Anthony  Blackwall, 
whose  merit  has  been  honoured,  by  the  testimony  of  Bishop  Hurd,' 
who  was  his  scholar  ;  for  Mr.  Blackwall  died  on  the  8th  of  April, 
1*130,^  more  than  a  year  before  Johnson  left  the  University. 

This  employment  was  very  irksome  to  him  in  every  respect,  and 
he  complained  grievously  of  it  in  bis  letters  to  his  Mend,  Mr. 
Hector,  who  was  now  settled  as  a  surgeon  at  Birmingham.  The 
letters  are  lost  ;  but  Mr.  Hector  recollects  his  writing  "  that  the 
poet  had  described  tlie  dull  sameness  of  his  existence  in  these  words, 
'  Vitam  contimt  una  dies '  (one  day  contains  the  whole  of  my  Kfe); 
that  it  was  unvaried  as  the  note  of  the  cuckoo  ;  and  that  he  did  not 
know  whether  it  was  more  disagreeable  for  him  to  teach,  or  the 
boys  to  learn,  the  grammar  rules."  His  general  aversion  to  this 
painful  drudgery  was  greatly  enhanced  by  a  disagreement  between 
him  and  Sir  Wolstan  Dixie,  the  patron  of  the  school,  in  whose  house, 
I  have  been  told,  he  officiated  as  a  kind  of  domestic  chaplain,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  to  say  grace  at  table,  but  was  treated  with  what  he 
represented  as  intolerable  harshness  ;  and  after  suffering  for  a  few 
months  such  complicated  misery,'  he  relinquished  a  situation  which 
all  his  life  afterwards  he  recollected  with  the  strongest  aversion,  and 

•  There  is  here  (as  Mr.  James  Boswell  observes  to  me)  a  slight  inaccuracy.  Bish  >p  Hurd, 
in  the  Epistle  Dedicatory  prefixed  to  his  Commentary  on  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  cfec,  does  not 
praise  Blackwall,  but  the  Rev.  Mr.  Budworth,  head  master  of  the  Gram.mar  School  at  Bre- 
wood,  in  Staffordshire,  who  had  himself  been  bred  under  Blackwall. — Malons.  [We  shall 
see,  presently,  on  the  authority  of  Mi\  Nichols,  that  Johnson  proposed  himself  to  Mr.  Bud- 
worth  as  an  assistant.] 

-  See  Gent.  Mag.,  Dec,  1784,  p.  957. 

3  Mr.  Malone  states,  that  he  had  read  a  letter  of  Johnson's  to  a  friend,  dated  July  27,  173J, 
saying  that  he  had  then  recently  left  Sir  Wo'lstan  Dixie's  house,  and  had  some  hopes  of  suc- 
ceeding, either  as  master  or  usher,  in  the  school  of  Ashbourn.  If  Mr.  Malone  be  correct  in 
the  date  of  this  letter,  and  Mr.  Boswell  be  also  right  in  placing  the  extiact  from  the  diary 
under  the  year  17-32,  Johnson's  sojourn  at  Bosworth  could  have  been  not  more  than  ten  days, 
a  time  too  short  to  be  characteuised  as  "  a  period  of  complicated  misery,"  and  to  be  remem- 
bered during  a  long  life  "  with  the  strongest  aversion  and  horror."  It  seems  very  extraordi 
nary,  that  the  laborious  diligence  and  the  lively  curiosity  of  Hawkins,  Boswell,  Murphy,  and 
Malone,  were  able  to  discover  so  little  of  the  history  of  Johnson's  life  from  December,  1729.  to 
his  marriage  in  July,  1736,  and  that  what  they  have  told  should  be  liable  to  so  much  doi'lrt. 
It  may  be  inferred,  that  it  was  a  period  to  which  Johnson  looked  back  with  little  satlsfa<si'«» 
and  of  wh  ich  he  did  not  love  to  talk ;  though  it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  during  these  Cvo  •«• 
six  important  years,  he  must  have  collected  a  large  portion  of  that  vast  sto:k  of  inrortnatlon 
with  which  he  afterwards  surprised  and  delighted  the  world. — Croker. 


^f"-^-  BIRMINGHAM.  15 

even  a  degree  of  horror.  But  it  is  probable  that  at  this  period, 
whatever  uneasiness  he  may  have  endured,  he  laid  the  foundation  of 
much  future  eminence  by  application  to  his  studies.    . 

Being  now  again  totally  unoccupied,  he  was  invited  by  Mr.  Hector 
to  pass  some  time  with  him  at  Birmingham,  as  his  guest,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Warren,  with  whom  Mr.  Hector  lodged  and  boarded. 
Mr,  Warren  was  the  first  established  bookseller  in  Birmingham,  and 
was  very  attentive  to  Johnson,  whb  he  soon  found  could  be  of  much 
service  to  him  in  his  trade,  by  his  knowledge  of  literature  ;  and  he 
even  obtained  the  assistance  of  his  pen  in  furnishing  some  numbers 
of  a  periodical  essay,  printed  in  the  newspaper  of  which  Warren  was 
proprietor.  After  very  diligent  inquiry,  I  have  not  been  able  to 
recover  those  early  specimens  of  that  particular  mode  of  writing  by 
which  Johnson  afterwards  so  greatly  distinguished  himself. 

He  continued  to  live  as  Mr.  Hector's  guest  for  about  six  months, 
and  then  hired  lodgings  in  another  part  of  the  town,'  finding  him- 
self as  well  situated  at  Birmingham  as  he  supposed  he  could  be  any- 
where, while  he  had  no  settled  plan  of  life,  and  very  scanty  means 
of  subsistence.  He  made  some  valuable  acquaintances  there,. amongst 
whom  were  Mr.  Porter,  a  mercer,  whose  widow  he  afterwards 
married,  and  Mr.  Taylor,  who,  by  his  ingenuity  in  mechanical  inven- 
tions, and  his  success  in  trade,  acquired  an  immense  fortune.  But 
the  comfort  of  being  near  Mr.  Hector,  his  old  school-fellow  and  inti- 
mate friend,  was  Johnson's  chief  inducement  to  continue  here. 

In  what  manner  he  employed  his  pen  at  this  period,  or  whether  he 
derived  from  it  any  pecuniary  advantage,  I  have  not  been  able  to 
ascertain.  He  probably  got  a  little  money  from  Mr.  Warren  ;  and 
we  are  certain,  that  he  executed  here  one  piece  of  literary  labour,  of 
which  Mr.  Hector  has  favoured  me  with  a  minute  account.  Having 
mentioned  that  he  had  read  at  Pembroke  College  a  Voyage  to  Abys- 
sinia, by  Lobo,  a  Portuguese  Jesuit,  and  that  he  thought  an  abridg- 
ment and  translation  of  it  from  the  French  into  English  might  be  an 
useful  and  profitable  publication,  Mr.  Warren  and  Mr.  Hector  joined 
in  urging  him  to  undertake  it.     He  accordingly  agreed  ;  and  the 

J  Sir  John  Hawkins  states,  from  one  of  Joiinson's  diaries,  that,  in  June  1733,  he  lodged  in 
Birmingham,  at  the  house  of  a  person  named  Jervis,  probably  a  relation  of  Mrs  Porter, 
whom  he  afterwards  married,  and  whose  maiden  name  was  Jervis.— Malose. 


16  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

book  not  being  to  be  found  in  Birmingliam,  he  borrowed  it  of  Pem- 
broke College.  A  part  of  the  work  being  very  soon  done,  one 
Osborn,  who  was  Mr.  Warren's  printer,  was  set  to  work  with  what 
was  ready,  and  Johnson  engaged  to  supply  the  press  with  copy  as  it 
should  be  wanted  ;  but  his  constitutional  indolence  soon  prevailed, 
and  the  work  was  at  a  stand.  Mr.  Hector,  who  knew  that  a  motive 
of  humanity  would  be  the  most  prevailing  argument  with  his  friend, 
went  to  Johnson,  and  represented-to  him,  that  the  printer  could  have 
no  other  employment  till  this  undertaking  was  finished,  and  that  the 
poor  man  and  his  family  were  suffering.  Johnson,  upon  this,  ex- 
erted the  powers  of  his  mind,  though  his  body  was  relaxed.  He  lay 
in  bed  with  the  book,  which  was  a  quarto,  before  him,  and  dictated 
while  Hector  wrote.  Mr.  Hector  carried  the  sheets  to  the  press,  and 
corrected  almost  all  the  proof  sheets,  very  few  of  which  were  even 
seen  by  Johnson,  In  this  manner,  with  the  aid  of  Mr.  Hector's 
active  friendship,  the  book  was  completed,  and  was  published  in  1*135, 
with  London  upon  the  title-page,  though  it  was  in  reality  piinted  at 
Birmingham,  a  device  too  common  with  provincial  publishers.  For 
this  work  he  had  from  Mr.  Warren  only  the  sum  of  five  guineas.' 

This  being  the  first  prose  work  of  Johnson,  it  is  a  curious  object 
of  enquiry  how  much  may  be  traced  in  it  of  that  style  which  marks 
his  subsequent  writings  with  such  peculiar  excellence  ;  with  so  happy 
an  union  of  force,  vivacity,  and  perspicuity.  I  have  perused  the 
book  with  this  view,  and  have  found  that  here,  as  I  believe  in  every 
other  translation,  there  is  in  the  work  itself  no  vestige  of  the  trans- 
lator's own  style  f  for  the  language  of  translation  being  adapted  to 
the  thoughts  of  another  person,  insensibly  follows  their  cast,  aad,  aa 
it  were,  runs  into  a  mould  that  is  ready  prepared. 

Thus,  for  instance,  taking  the  first  sentence  that  occurs  at  the 
opening  of  the  book,  p.  4  : 

"  I  lived  here  above  a  year,  and  completed  my  studies  in  divinity  ;  in  which 
time  some  letters  were  received  from  the  fathers  of  Ethiopia,  with  an  account 

1  The  book  was  poorly  printed,  on  very  bad  paper,  in  Birmingham,  and  published  by  Bet- 
tesworth  and  Hitch,  Paternoster  Row,  without  the  translator's  name. 

*  There  was,  perhaps,  no  great  room  for  elegance  of  style  ;  but  a  superior  skill  and  judg- 
ment are  displayed  by  the  manner  in  which  he  has  abridged  some  theological  dissertations.-? 
I'isiior. 


^TAT.  34.  ^  TRANSLATION    OF   LOBO.  77 

that  Sultan  Segned,  Emperor  of  Abyssinia,  was  converted  to  the  church  of 
Rome  ;  that  many  of  his  subjects  had  followed  his  example,  and  that  there  was 
a  great  want  of  missionaries  to  improve  these  prosperous  beginnings.  Every- 
body was  very  desirous  of  seconding  the  zeal  of  our  fathers,  and  of  sending 
them  the  assistance  they  requested ;  to  which  we  were  the  more  encouraged, 
because  the  Emperor's  letter  informed  our  Provincial,  that  we  might  easily  enter 
his  dominions  by  the  way  of  Dancala ;  but,  unhappily,  the  secretary  wrote 
Geila  for  Dancala,  which  cost  two  of  our  fathers  their  lives." 

Every  one  acquainted  with  Johnson's  manner  will  be  sensil^k;  that 
there  is  notliing  of  it  here  ;  but  that  this  sentence  might  have  been 
composed  by  any  other  man.  But,  in  the  Preface  the  Johnsonian 
style  begins  to  appear  ;  and  though  use  had  not  yet  taught  his  wing 
a  permanent  and  equable  flight,  there  are  parts  of  it  which  exhibit 
his  best  manner  in  full  vigour.  I  had  once  the  pleasure  of  examin- 
ing it  with  Mr.  Edmund  Burke,  who  confirmed  me  in  this  opinion, 
by  his  superior  critical  sagacity,  and  v,^as,  I  remember,  much  de- 
lighted with  the  following  specimen  : 

"  The  Portuguese  traveller,  contrary  to  the  general  vein  of  his  countrymen, 
has  amused  his  reader  with  no  romantic  absurdity,  or  incredible  fictions;  what- 
ever he  relates,  whether  true  or  not,  is  at  least  probable  ;  and  he  who  tells 
nothing  exceeding  the  bounds  of  probability,  has  a  right  to  demand  that  they 
ghould  believe  him  who  cannot  contradict  it. 

"  He  appears,  by  his  modest  and  unalFected  narration,  to  have  described 
things  as  he  saw  them,  to  have  copied  nature  from  the  life,  and  to  have  con- 
gulted  his  senses,  not  his  imagination.  He  meets  with  no  basilisks  that  destroy 
with  their  eyes,  his  crocodiles  devour  their  prey  without  tears,  and  his  cataracts 
fall  from  the  rocka  without  deafening  the  neighbouring  inhabitants. 

"The  reader  will  here  find  no  regions  cursed  with  irremediable  barrenness, 
or  blest  with  spontaneous  fecundity;  no  perpetual  gloom  or  unceasing  sun- 
shine ;  nor  are  the  nations  here  described  either  devoid  of  all  sense  of  hunian- 
ity,  or  consu7iimate  in  all  private  or  social  virtues.  Here  are  no  Hottentots 
without  religious  policy  or  articulate  language  ;  no  Chinese  perfectly  politoi 
and  completely  skilled  in  all  sciences;  he  will  discover,  what  will  always  be 
discovered  by  a  diligent  and  impartial  enquirer,  that  wherever  human  nature 
is  to  be  found,  there  is  a  mixture  of  vice  and  virtue,  a  contest  of  passion  and 
reason ;  and  that  the  Creator  doth  not  appear  partial  in  his  distributions,  but 
has  balanced  in  most  countries,  their  particular  inconveniences  by  particular 
favours." 

Here  we  have  an  early  example  of  that  brilliant  and  energetic 


18  LlFle    OP   JOHNSO^f.  1^^ 

expression,  which,  upon  innumerable  occasions  in  his  subsequent 
life,  justly  impressed  the  world  with  the  highest  admiration.  Nor 
can  any  one  conversant  with  the  writings  of  Johnson,  fail  to  discern 
his  hand  in  this  passage  of  the  Dedication  to  John  Warren,  Esq.,  of 
Pembrokeshire,  though  it  is  ascribed  to  Warren  the  bookseller  : 

"  A  generous  and  elevated  mind  is  distinguished  by  nothing  more  certainly 
than  an  eminent  degree  of  curiosity ;'  nor  is  that  curiosity  ever  more  agreeably 
or  usel'ully  employed,  than  in  examining  the  laws  and  customs  of  foreign 
nations.  I  hope,  therefore,  the  present  I  now  presume  to  make,  will  not  be 
tliought  improper;  which,  however,  it  is  not  my  business  as  a  dedicator  to  com- 
mend, nor  as  a  bookseller  to  depreciate." 

It  is  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  his  having  been  thus  accidentally 
led  to  a  jaarticular  study  of  the  history  and  manners  of  Abyssinia, 
was  the  remote  occasion  of  his  writing,  many  years  afterwards,  his 
admirable  philosophical  tale,  the  principal  scene  of  which  is  laid  in 
that  country. 

Johnson  returned  to  Lichfield  early  in  1734,  and  in  August  that 
year  he  made  an  attempt  to  procure  some  little  subsistence  by  his 
pen  ;  for  he  published  proposals  for  printing  by  subscription  the 
Latin  Poems  of  Politian  : '  "  Angeli  Politiani  Poeviata  Latini,  quibus 
Notas,  aim  historia  Latince  poeseos  a  Pdrarchct  cevo  ad  Pol'diani  tern- 
pora  deduda,  et  vita  Politiani  fusius  quam  antehac  enarrcda,  addidit 
Sam.  Johnson."  * 

It  appears  that  his  brother  Nathaniel  had  taken  up  his  father's 
trade  ;  for  it  is  mentioned,  "that  subscriptions  are  taken  in  by  the 

»  See  Rambler,  No.  103. 

■•^  May  we  not  trace  a  fanciful  similarity  between  Politian  and  Johnson  ?  Huetius,  speaking 
of  Paulus  Pelissonius  Fontanerius,  says :  "  ■ —  in  quo  natura,  ut  dim  in  Angelo  Politiano,  de- 
formitatem  oris  excellentis  ingenii  prsestantia  compensavit."  Comment  de  reb.  ad  eum  pertin. 
Edit.  Amstel.  1718.  p.  200.— Boswell. 

In  this  learned  masquerade  of  Paulus  Pelissonius  Fontanerius,  we  have  some  difficulty  In 
detecting  Madame  de  Sevign6's  friend,  M.  Pelisson,  of  whom  M.  de  Guilleragues  used  the 
phrase,  which  has  since  gi'own  into  a  proverb,  "  qu'il  abusait  de  la  permission  qu'ont  les  hont' 
mes  d'etre  laids." — See  Madame  de  Sevigne's  Letter,  Jan.  5, 1674.  Huet,  bishop  of  Avranche, 
wrote  Memoirs  of  his  own  time,  in  Latin,  from  which  Boswell  has  extracted  tliis  scrap  of  pleas- 
antry.— Croker. 

3  The  book  was  to  contain  more  than  thirty  sheets,  the  price  to  be  two  shillings  and  six- 
pence at  the  time  of  subscribing,  and  two  shillings  and  sixpence  at  the  delivery  of  a  perfect 
book  in  quires. 


iEiAT.  26. 


LETTEU    FROM    BIRMINGHAM.  19 


Editor,  or  .N.  Johnson,  bookseller  of  Lichfield."  '  Notwithstanding 
the  merit  of  Johnson,  and  the  cheap  price  at  which  this  book  wag 
offered,  there  were  not  subscribers  enough  to  insure  a  sufficient  sale; 
so  the  work  never  appeared,  and,  probably,  never  was  executed,* 

We  find  him  again  this  year  at  Birmingham,  and  there  is  pre- 
served the  following  letter  from  him  to  Mr.  Edward  Cave,  the 
original  compiler  and  editor  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine.^ 

Letter  1.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

"  Nov.  25, 1784. 

"  Sir, — As  you  appear  no  less  sensible  than  your  readers  of  the  defects  of 
Your  poetical  article,  you  will  not  be  displeased,  if,  in  order  to  the  improve- 
ment of  it,  I  communicate  to  you  the  sentiments  of  a  person  who  will  under, 
take,  on  reasonable  terms,  sometimes  to  fill  a  column. 

"His  opinion  is,  that  the  public  would  not  give  you  a  bad  reception,  if, 
beside  the  current  wit  of  the  month,  which  a  critical  examination  would  gene- 
rally reduce  to  a  narrow  compass,  you  admitted  not  only  poems,  inscriptions, 
etc.,  never  printed  before,  which  he  will  sometimes  supply  you  with,  but  like- 
wise short  literary  dissertations  in  Latin  or  English,  critical  remarks  on  authors 
ancient  or  modern,  forgotten  poems  that  deserve  revival,  or  loose  pieces,  like 
Floyer's,*  worth  preserving.     By  this  method  your  literary  article,  for  so  it 

•  Nathaniel  kept  the  shop  as  long  as  he  lived,  as  did  his  mother,  after  him,  till  her  death.- 
Miss  Seward  tells  us,  that  Miss  Lucy  Porter,  from  the  age  of  twenty  to  her  fortieth  year  (when 
she  was  raised  to  a  state  of  competency  by  the  death  of  her  eldest  brother),  "  had  boarded 
In  Lichfield  with  Dr.  Johnson's  mother,  who  still  kept  that  little  bookseller's  shop  by  which 
her  husband  had  supplied  the  scanty  means  of  subsistence ;  meantime  Lucy  Porter  kept  the 
best  company  in  our  little  city,  but  would  make  no  engagement  on  market  days,  lest  Granny, 
as  she  called  Mrs.  Johnson,  should  catch  cold  by  serving  in  the  shop.  There  Lucy  Porter 
took  her  place,  standing  behind  the  counter,  nor  thought  it  a  disgrace  to  thank  a  poor  person 
who  purchased  from  her  a  penny  battledoor." — Lett.  i.  117. — Croker. 

2  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  project  was  not  afterwards  revived,  as  a  new  life  of  Politian 
and  a  history  of  Latin  poetry  from  the  age  of  Petrarch  to  the  time  of  Politian,  would  have 
been  a  valuable  accession  to  Italian  literature. — Anderson. 

'  To  the  "  Grub  Street  Journal,"  a  weekly  publication  of  small  importance,  we  may  trace 
the  origin  of  this  very  valuable  literary  miscellany.  The  "Journal"  began  in  Jan.,  1730; 
the  encouragement  it  met  with  suggested  to  Cave  an  improvement  on  its  plan  ;  and  in  1731, 
he  produced  the  first  number  of  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine,  or  Monthly  Intelligencer,  by 
Sylvanus  Urban,  Gent."    See  Memoirs  of  the  Society  of  Grub  Street,  p.  12. 

*  "A  Letter  from  the  late  Sir  John  Floyer,  in  recommendation  of  the  Cold  Bath."  Gent. 
Mag.  1734,  p.  197.  This  letter  was  probably  sent  by  Johnson  himself;  the  Doctor,  a  very 
Bhort  time  before  his  death,  pressed  Mr.  Nichols  to  give  to  the  public  some  account  of  the  life 
and  works  of  Sir  John  Floyer,  "whose  learning  and  piety,"  he  said,  "deserved  recording." 
Bee  Lit.  Anec,  vol.  v.  p.  19.— Sir  John  Floyer  was  born  about  the  year  1646,  and  died  in  Jan. 
1734,  at  Lichfield ;  where  an  original  portrait  of  him  is  preserved.  Bishop  Hough,  in  a  letter 
dated  July  4, 1780,  s^ys :  "  Sir  John  Floyer  bas  been  with  me  some  weeks  •  and  all  my  neighr 


80  LIJ^'E    OF    JOHNSON. 


JTS4. 


might  be  called,  will,  he  thinks,  be  better  recommended  to  the  public  thau  by 
low  jests,  awkward  buflbonery,  or  the  dull  scurrilities  of  either  party. 

"  If  such  a  correspondence  will  be  agreeable  to  you,  be  pleased  to  inform 
me  in  two  posts  what  the  conditions  are  on  which  you  shall  expect  it.  Your 
late  offer  *  gives  me  no  reason  to  distrust  your  generosity.  If  you  engage  in 
any  Hterary  projects  besides  this  paper,  I  have  other  designs  to  impart,  if  I 
could  be  secured  from  having  others  reap  the  advantage  of  what  I  should 
hint. 

"  Your  letter,  by  being  directed  to  S.  Smith,  to  be  left  at  the  Castle  in  Bir 
iiingham,  Warwickshire,  will  reach 

"  Your  humble  servant." 

Mr.  Cave  has  put  a  note  on  this  letter,  "  Answered  Dec.  2."  But 
whether  anything  was  done  in  consequence  of  it  we  are  not  informed. 

Johnson  had,  from  his  early  youth,  been  sensible  to  the  influence 
of  female  charms.  When  at  Stourbridge  school,  he  was  much 
enamoured  of  Olivia  Lloyd,  a  young  Quaker,  to  whom  he  wrote  a 
copy  of  verses,  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  recover  ;  ^  but  with 
what  facility  and  elegance  he  could  warble  the  amorous  lay,  will 
appear  from  the  following  lines  which  he  wrote  for  his  friend, 
Mr.  Edmund  Hector  : 

VERSES   TO   A    LADY,    ON    RECEIVING   FROM    HER   A   SPRIG   OF   MYRTLE. 

"  What  hopes,  what  terrors  does  thy  gift  create, 
Ambiguous  emblem  of  uncertain  fate ! 
The  myrtle,  ensign  of  supreme  command, 
Consign'd  by  Venus  to  Melissa's  hand  ; 
Not  less  capricious  than  a  reigning  fair, 

bois  are  surprised  to  see  a  man  of  eighty-five,  who  has  his  memory,  understanding,  and  al 
his  senses  good,  and  seems  to  labour  under  no  infirmity.  He  is  of  a  happy  temper  not  to  bt 
moved  with  what  he  cannot  remedy ;  which,  I  really  believe,  has,  In  a  great  measure,  helped 
to  preserve  his  health  and  prolong  his  days."  The  excellent  prelate  was  himself,  at  tha 
period  of  writing  this  letter,  in  his  eightieth  year. 

2  A  prize  of  fifty  pounds  for  the  best  poem  "  On  Life,  Death,  Judgment,  Heaven,  and  Hell.'' 
See  Gent.  Mag.  vol.  iv.  p.  560.  "Being,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "but  newly  acquainted  with 
wealth,  and  thinking  the  influence  of  fifty  pounds  very  great,  Cave  expected  the  first  authors 
of  the  kingdom  to  appear  as  competitors ;  and  offered  the  allotment  of  the  prize  to  the  uni- 
versity. But,  when  the  time  came,  no  name  was  seen  among  the  writers  that  had  ever  been 
Been  before." — Life  of  Cave. 

■■*  He  also  wrote  some  amatory  verses,  before  he  left  Staffordshire,  which  our  author  appears 
not  to  have  seen.  They  were  addressed  "  to  Miss  Hickman,  playing  on  the  spinet."  At  the 
back  of  this  early  poetical  effusion,  of  which  the  original  copy,  in  Johnson's  handwriting, 
ras  obligingly  communicated  to  me  by  Mr.  John  Taylor,  is  the  following  attestation;— 


Stit,  85.  BIRMINGHAM  81 

Now  grants,  and  now  rejects,  a  lover's  prayer. 
In  myrtle  shades  oft  sings  the  happy  swain. 
In  myrtle  shades  despairing  ghosts  complain ; 
The  myrtle  crowns  the  happy  lovers'  heads, 
The  unhappy  lover's  grave  the  myrtle  spreads : 
0,  then,  the  meaning  of  thy  gift  impart, 
And  ease  the  throbbings  of  an  anxious  heart ! 
Soon  must  this  bough,  as  you  shall  fix  his  doom, 
Adorn  Philander's  head,  or  grace  his  tomb."  ^ 

His  juvenile  attachments  to  the  fair  sex  were,  however,  very 
transient ;  and  it  is  certain  that  ho  formed  no  criminal  connection 
whatsoever.  Mr.  Hector,  who  lived  with  him  in  his  younger  days  in 
the  utmost  intimacy  and  social  freedom,  has  assured  me,  that  even 
at  that  ardent  season   his  conduct  was  strictly  virtuous   in  that 

"  Written  by  the  late  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  on  my  mother,  then  Miss  Hickman,  playing 
on  the  spinet.  J.  Turton."  Dr.  Turton,  the  phj-sician,  writer  of  this  certificate,  who  died  in 
April,  1S06,  in  his  71st  year,  was  born  in  1735.  The  verses  in  question,  therefore,  which  ha\  ■• 
been  primed  in  some  late  editions  of  Johnson's  poems,  must  have  been  written  before  that 
year.  Miss  Hickman,  it  is  believed  was  a  lady  of  Staffordshire. — Malone.  [She  was,  no 
doubt,  the  daughter  of  the  friendly  schoolmaster  at  Stourbridge.] 

1  Mrs.  Piozzi  gives  the  following  account  of  this  little  composition  from  Dr.  Johnson's  own 
relation  to  her,  on  her  enquiring  whether  it  was  rightly  attributed  to  him: — "I  think  it  is  now 
just  forty  years  ago,  that  a  young  fellow  had  a  sprig  of  myrtle  given  him  by  a  girl  he  courted 
and  asked  me  to  write  him  some  verses  that  he  might  present  her  in  return.  I  promised,  but 
forgot ;  and  when  he  called  for  his  lines  at  the  time  agreed  on, — 'Sit  still  a  moment,'  says  I, 
'  dear  Mund,  and  I"ll  fetch  them  thee,' — so  stepped  aside  for  five  minutes,  and  wrote  the  non 
sense  you  now  keep  such  a  stir  about." — A?iecdotes,  p.  34.  In  my  first  edition  I  was  induced 
to  doubt  the  authenticity  of  this  account,  by  the  following  circumstantial  statement  in  a  lettet 
to  me  from  Miss  Seward,  of  Lichfield: — "  I  k:»oic  those  verses  were  addressed  to  Lucy  Porter, 
when  he  was  enamoured  of  her  in  his  boyish  days,  two  or  three  years  before  he  had  seen  her 
mother,  his  future  wife.  He  wrote  them  at  my  ■^randfather's  [Mr.  Hunter,  the  schoolmaster], 
and  gave  them  to  Lucy  in  the  presence  of  my  mother,  to  whom  he  showed  them  on  the 
instant.  She  used  to  repeat  them  to  me,  when  I  asked  her  for  the  verses  Dr.  Johnson  gave 
her  on  a  Sprig  of  Myrtle,  which  he  had  stolen  or  begged  from  her  bosom.  We  all  know 
honest  Lucy  Porter  to  have  been  incapable  of  the  mean  vanity  of  applj-ing  to  herself  a  com- 
pliment not  intended  for  her."  Such  was  this  lady's  statement,  which  I  make  no  doubt  she 
supposed  to  be  correct :  but  it  shows  how  dangcous  it  is  to  trust  too  implicitly  to  traditional 
testimony  and  ingenious  inference  :  for  Mr.  Hector  has  lately  assured  me  that  Mrs.  Piozzi's 
account  is,  in  this  instance,  accurate,  and  that  he  was  the  person  for  whom  Johnson  wrote 
those  verses,  which  have  been  erroneously  ascribed  to  Sir.  Hammond.  I  am  obliged,  in  so 
many  instances,  to  notice  Mrs.  Piozzi's  incorrectness  of  relation,  that  I  gladly  seize  this  oppor- 
tunity of  acknowledging,  that  however  often,  she  is  not  always  inaccurate. 

The  author  liaving  been  drawn  into  a  controversy  with  Miss  Anna  Seward,  in  consequence 
9f  the  preceding  statement  (which  may  be  found  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  voL  Lxiii.  and 
Ixiv.),  received  the  following  letter  from  Mr.  Edmund  Hector  on  the  subject: 

•"JBAR  S*B,— I  am  sorry  to  see  you  are  engaged  in  altercation  with  a  lady,  who  seems  no 


82  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^"^^"^ 

respect  ;  and  that,  though  he  loved  to  exhilarate  himself  with  wine, 
he  never  knew  him  intoxicated  but  once.^ 

In  a  man  whom  religious  education  has  secured  from  iicentioug 
Indulgences,  the  passion  of  love,  when  once  it  has  seized  him,  is 
exceedingly  strong  ;  being  unimpaired  by  dissipation,  and  totally  con- 
centrated in  one  object.  This  was  experienced  by  Johnson,  when  he 
became  the  fervent  admirer  of  Mrs.  Porter,  after  her  first  husband's 
death.  Miss  Porter  told  me,  that  when  he  was  first  introduced  to 
her  mother,  his  appearance  was  very  forbidding  :  he  was  then  lean 


willing  to  be  convinced  of  her  errors.  Surely  it  would  be  more  ingenn^us  to  acknowledge 
tliKU  to  persevere.  Lately,  in  looking  over  some  papei's  I  meant  to  burn,  I  found  the  original 
manuscript  of  the  Myrtle,  with  the  date  on  it,  1731,  which  I  have  enclosed. 

"  The  true  history  (which  I  could  swear  to)  is  as  follows  : — Mr.  Morgan  Graves,  the  elder 
brother  of  a  worthy  clergyman  near  Bath  [the  Kev.  Richard  Graves,  author  of  the  "Spiritual 
Quixote,"]  with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  waited  upon  a  lady  in  this  neighbourhood,  who  at 
parting,  presented  him  the  branch.  He  showed  it  me,  and  wished  much  to  return  the  compli- 
ment in  verse.  I  applied  to  Johnson,  who  was  with  me,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  dictated 
the  verses,  which  I  sent  to  my  friend.  I  most  solemnly  declare,  at  that  time,  Johnson  was  an 
entire  stranger  to  the  Porter  family ;  and  it  was  almost  two  years  after,  that  I  introduced  him 
to  the  acquaintance  of  Porter,  whom  I  bought  my  clothes  of. 

*'  If  you  intend  to  convince  this  obstinate  woman,  and  to  exhibit  to  the  public  the  truth  of 
four  narrative,  you  are  at  libei-ty  ^o  make  what  use  you  please  of  this  statement.  I  hope  3'ou 
will  pardon  me  for  taking  up  so  much  of  your  time.  Wishing  you  multos  ft  felices  annof,  I 
shall  subscribe  myself  your  obliged  humble  servant,  E.  Hector.  Birmingham,  Jan.  9, 
1794." 

'  In  1735,  Mr.  Walmesley  endeavored  to  procure  Johnson  the  mastership  of  the  grammai- 
school  at  Solihull,  in  Warwickshire.  This  and  the  cause  of  failure  appear  by  the  foUowinj 
curious  letter,  addressed  to  Mr.  Walmesley,  and  preserved  in  the  records  of  Pembrok* 
College: 

"  Solihull,  y'  30  August,  1735.  Sir, — I  was  favoured  with  yours  of  y^  13th  inst.  in  due  time 
but  deferred  answering  it  til  now,  it  takeing  up  some  time  to  informe  the  ffoeofees  [of  ths 
school]  of  the  contents  thereof;  and  before  they  would  return  an  Answer,  desired  some  time 
to  make  enquiry  of  y^  caracter  of  Mr.  Johnson,  who  all  agree  that  he  is  an  excellent  scholar, 
and  upon  that  account  deserves  much  better  than  to  be  schoolmaster  of  Solihull.  But  thee 
he  has  the  caracter  of  being  a  very  haughty  ill-natured  gent.,  and  y'  he  has  such  a  way  of 
distorting  his  .fiface  (wii  though  he  can't  help)  y'^  gent,  think  it  may  affect  some  young  ladds  • 
for  these  two  reasons  he  is  not  approved  on,  y''  late  master  Mr.  Crompton's  huffing  the  ffoeo- 
fees being  stil  in  their  memory.  However,  we  are  all  extremelj'  obliged  to  you  for  thinking 
of  us,  and  for  proposeing  so  good  a  schoUar,  but  more  especially  is,  dear  sir,  your  very  humble 
servant,  Henry  Greswold." 

It  was  probably  prior  to  this  that  an  attempt  to  obtain  the  situation  of  assistant  in  Mr  Bud- 
worth's  school,  at  Brewood,  had  also  failed,  and  for  the  same  reasons.  Mr.  Budworth  lamented 
his  having  been  under  the  necessity  of  declining  the  engagement  from  an  apprehension  that 
the  paralytic  affection  under  which  Johnson  laboured  might  become  the  object  of  imitation  or 
ridicule  amongst  his  pupils.  This  anecdote  Captain  Budworth,  his  grandson,  conflrmetf  t* 
Mr.  Nicholas. — Croker. 


■*^AT  28.  Mgg      poRtER.  88 

aud-  lank,  so  that  his  immense  structure  of  boues  was  hideously 
striking  to  the  eye,  and  the  scars  of  the  scrofula  were  deeply  visible 
He  also  wore  his  hair,  which  was  straight  and  stiff,  and  separated 
behind  ;  and  he  often  had,  seemingly,  convulsive  starts  and  odd  ges- 
ticulations, which  tended  to  excite  at  once  surprise  and  ridicule.' 
Mrs.  Porter  was  so  much  engaged  by  his  conversation,  that  she  over 
looked  all  these  external  disadvantages,  and  said  to  her  daughter 
"  This  is  the  most  sensible  man  that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life." 

Though  Mrs.  Porter  was  double  the  age  of  Johnson,''  and  her  per 
son  and  manner,  as  described  to  me  by  the  late  Mr.  Garrick,  were 
by  no  means  pleasing  to  others,'  she  must  have  had  a  superiority  of 
understanding  and  talents,*  as  she  certainly  inspired  him  with  more 
than  ordinary  passion  ;  and  she  having  signified  her  willingness  to 
accept  of  his  hand,  he  went  to  Lichfield  to  ask  his  mother's  consent 
to  the  marriage  ;  which  he  could  not  but  be  conscious  was  a  very 
imprudent  scheme,  both  on  account  of  their  disparity  of  years,  and 
her  want  of  fortune.     But  Mrs.  Johnson  knew  too  well  the  ardour 

1  Jolinson's  countenance,  when  in  a  good  humour,  was  not  disagreeable  :  his  face  clear,  his 
complexion  good,  and  his  features  not  Ul-formed,  many  ladies  have  thought  they  might  not  ba 
unattractive  when  he  was  young.  Much  misrepresentation  has  prevailed  on  this  subject. — 
Pkrct. 

2  Though  there  was  a  gi-eat  disparity  of  years  between  her  and  Dr.  Johnson,  she  was  not 
quite  so  old  as  she  is  here  represented,  being  only  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  in  her  forty- 
eighth  year,  as  appears  by  the  following  extract  from  the  parish  register  of  Great  Peatling,  in 
Leicestershire :— "  Anno  Dom.  16SS-9.  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  William  Jervis,  Esq.  and 
Jlrs.  Anne  his  wife,  was  born  the  4th  day  of  February  and  mane,  baptized  IGth  day  of  the 
same  month,  by  Mr.  Smith,  Curate  of  Little  Peatling.  John  Allen,  Vicar."— Malone.  [Mr. 
Malone  has  given  evidence  that  the  family  of  Mrs.  Johnson  had  once  been  possessed  of  a 
considerable  landed  property  at  Great  Peatling :  so  that  there  was  no  absurdity  in  the  Doo 
tor's  commemoration,  in  her  epitaph,  of  her  Uirps  genn-osa.'] 

3  That  in  Johnson's  eyes  she  was  handsome,  appears  from  the  epitaph  which  he  caused  to 
be  inscribed  on  her  tombstone,  not  long  before  his  own  death,  and  which  will  be  found  in  a 
Bubsequent  page,  under  the  year  1752.— Maloxe. 

<  The  following  account  of  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  her  family,  is  copied  from  a  paper,  written 
by  Lady  Knight,  at  Rome,  and  transmitted  by  her  to  Mr.  Hoole,  the  translator  of  Metas- 
ta^o,  &c. : 

'  Mrs  Williams's  account  of  Mrs.  Johnsoi.  was,  that  she  had  a  good  understanding,  and 
gieat  sensibility,  but  inclined  to  be  satirical  Her  first  husband  died  insolvent :  her  sons 
were  much  disgusted  with  her  for  her  sccona  marriage,  perhaps  because  they,  being  struggling 
to  get  advanced  in  life,  were  mortified  to  think  she  had  allied  herself  to  a  man  who  had  not 
any  visible  means  of  being  useful  to  them;  however,  she  always  retained  her  aflection  for 
them.  While  they  [Dr.  and  Mrs.  Johnson]  resided  in  Gough  Square,  her  son,  the  oflicer, 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  asked  the  maid,  if  her  mistress  was  at  home.  She  answered,  '  Yes, 
Bir;  but  she  is  sick  in  bed.'—'  Oh,'  says  he,  '  if  it's  so,  tell  her  that  her  son  Jervis  called  to 
Jcnow  how  she  did  ;'   and  was  going  away.     The  maid  begged  she  might  run  up  to  tell  hei 


^4  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  Jclt  9, 178S 

of  her  son's  temper,  and  was  too  tender  a  parent  to  oppose  hi3 
inclinations. 

I  know  not  for  what  reason  the  marriage  ceremony  was  not  per- 
formed at  Birmingliam  ;  but  a  resohition  was  taken  that  it  should 
be  at  Derby,  for  which  place  the  bride  and  bridegroom  set  out  on 
horseback,  I  suppose  in  very  good  humour.  But  though  Mr.  Top- 
ham  Beauclerk  used  archly  to  mention  Johnson's  having  told  him, 
with  much  gravity,  "  Sir,  it  was  a  love-marriage  on  both  sides,"  I 
have  had  from  my  illustrious  friend  the  following  curious  account  of 
their  journey  to  church  upon  the  nuptial  morn  [9th  July]  : — "  Sir,  she 
had  read  the  old  romances,  and  had  got  into  her  head  the  fantasti- 
cal notion  that  a  woman  of  spirit  should  use  her  lover  like  a  dog 
So,  sir,  at  first  she  told  me  that  I  rode  too  fast,  and  she  could  not 
keep  up  with  me  ;  and,  when  I  rode  a  little  slower,  she  passed  me, 
and  complained  that  I  lagged  behind.  I  was  not  to  be  made  the 
slave  of  caprice  ;  and  I  resolved  to  begin  as  I  meant  to  end.  I 
therefore  pushed  on  briskly,  till  I  was  fairly  out  of  her  sight.  The 
road  lay  between  two  edges,  so  I  was  sure  she  could  not  miss  it  ; 
and  I  contrived  that  she  should  soon  come  up  with  me.  When  she 
did,  I  observed  her  to  be  in  tears." 

This,  it  must  be  allowed,  was  a  singular  beginning  of  connubial 
felicity  :  but  there  is  no  doubt,  that  Johnson,  though  he  thus  showed 
a  manly  firmness,  proved  a  most  affectionate  and  indulgent  husband 
to  the  last  moment  of  Mrs.  Johnson's  life  ;  and  in  his  "  Prayers  and 
Meditations,''  we  find  very  remarkable  evidence  that  his  regard  and 
fondness  for  her  never  ceased  even  after  her  death. 

He  now  set  up  a  private  academy,  for  which  purpose  he  hired  a 
large  house,  well  situated  near  his  native  city.  In  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  1736*  there  is  the  following  advertisement : 

mistress,  and,  without  attending  his  answer,  left  him.  Mrs.  Johnson,  enraptured  to  hear  her 
son  was  below,  desired  the  maid  to  tell  him  she  longed  to  embrace  him.  When  the  maid 
descended,  the  gentleman  was  gone,  and  poor  Jlrs.  Johnsou  «  fts  much  agitated  by  the  adveu- 
ture  :  it  was  the  only  time  he  ever  made  an  effort  to  see  her.  Dr.  Johnson  did  all  he  could  to 
console  his  wife,  but  told  Mrs.  Williams,  '  Her  son  is  uniformly  undutiful ;  so  I  conclude,  like 
many  other  sober  men,  he  might  once  in  his  life  be  drunk,  and  in  that  fit  nature  got  the  better 
of  his  pride.' " — Malone. 

'  This  project  must  have  been  formed  before  his  marriage,  for  the  advertisement  appears 
in  the  Magazine  for  June  and  July,  1736.  Is  it  not  possible,  that  the  obvious  advantage  of 
having  a  woman  of  experience  to  superintend  an  establishment  of  this  kind  may  have  con- 
tributed to  a  match  so  disproportionate  in  point  of  age? — Croker. 


'*^''^T.  27.  SCHOOL   AT    EDIAL.  86 

"  At  EOiAL,  near  Lichfield,  in  Staffordshire,  young  gentlemen  art 
hoarded  and  taught  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages  by  Samuel 
Johnson."  ' 

But  the  only  pupils  that  were  put  under  his  care  were  the  cele- 
brated David  Garrick  and  his  brother  George,  and  a  Mr.  Offely,  a 
young  gentleman  of  good  fortune,  who  died  early.  As  yet,  his 
name  had  nothing  of  that  celebrity  which  afterwards  commanded  the 
highest  attention  and  respect  of  mankind.  Had  such  an  advertise- 
ment appeared  after  the  publication  of  his  London,  or  his  Rambler, 
or  his  Dictionary,  how  would  it  have  burst  upon  the  world  !  with 
what  eagerness  would  the  great  and  the  wealthy  have  embraced  an 
opportunity  of  putting  their  sons  under  the  learned  tuition  of  Sam- 
uel Johnson  1  The  truth,  however,  is,  that  he  was  not  so  well 
qualified  for  being  a  teacher  of  elements,  and  a  conductor  in  learn- 
ing by  regular  gradations,  as  men  of  inferior  powers  of  mind.  His 
own  acquisitions  had  been  made  by  fits  and  starts,  by  violent  irrup- 
tions in  the  regions  of  knowledge  ;  and  it  could  not  be  expected 
that  his  impatience  would  be  subdued,  and  his  impetuosity  restrained, 
so  as  to  fit  him  for  a  quiet  guide  to  novices.  The  art  of  communi-^ 
eating  instruction,  of  whatever  kind,  is  much  to  be  valued  ;  and  I 
have  ever  thought  that  those  who  devote  themselves  to  this  employ* 
ment,  and  do  their  duty  with  diligence  and  success,  are  entitled  to 
very  high  respect  from  the  community,  as  Johnson  himself  often 
maintained.  Yet  I  am  of  opinion,  that  the  greatest  abilities  are  not 
only  not  required  for  this  office,  but  render  a  man  less  fit  for  it. 

"While  we  acknowledge  the  justness  of  Thomson's  beautif'il 
remark, 

"  Delightful  task  !  to  fear  the  tender  thought, 
And  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot !" 

we  must  consider  that  this  delight  is  perceptible  only  by  "  a  mind 
at  ease,"  a  mind  at  once  calm  and  clear  ;  but  that  a  mind  gloomy 
and  impetuous,  like  that  of  John.«on,  cannot  be  fixed  for  any  length 
of  time  in  minute  attention,  and  must  be  so  frequeutly  irritated  by 
unavoidable  slowness  and  error  in  the  advances  of  scholars,  as  to 

'-  a  view  of  "  Edial  Hall,  the  residence  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,"  ia  given  in  Harwood'i 
ni3tory  of  Lichfield,  1809;  where  it  is  stated,  that  "the  house  has  undergone  no  material 
alteration  since  it  was  inhabited  by  this  illustriovis  tenant." 


LIFE   OF  JOHNSON. 


1?U. 


perform  the  duty  with  little  pleasure  to  the  teacher,  and  uo  great 
advantage  to  the  pupils.  Goad  temper  is  a  most  essential  requisite 
in  a  preceptor.     Horace  paints  the  character  as  bland : 

"  Ut  pueris  olim  dant  crustula  hlandi 


Doctores,  elementa,  velint  ut  discere  prima." 

Johnson  was  not  more  satisfied  with  his  situation  as  the  master 
of  an  academy,  than  with  that  of  the  usher  of  a  school  ;  we  need 
not  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  did  not  keep  his  academy  above  a 
year  and  a  half.  From  Mr.  Garrick's  account,  he  did  not  appear  to 
have  been  profoundly  reverenced  by  his  pupils.  His  oddities  of 
manner,  and  uncouth  gesticulations,  could  not  but  be  the  subject  of 
merriment  to  them  ;  and,  in  particular,  t^e  young  rogues  used  to 
listen  at  the  door  of  his  bedchamber,  and  peep  through  the  key- 
hole, that  they  might  turn  into  ridicule  his  tumultuous  and  awkward 
fondness  for  Mrs.  Johnson,  whom  he  used  to  name  by  the  familiar 
appellation  of  Tetty  or  Tetsey,  which,  Hke,  Betty  or  Betsey,  is  pro- 
vincially  used  as  a  contraction  for  EUzaheth,  her  Christian  name, 
but  which  to  us  seems  ludicrous,  when  applied  to  a  woman  of  her 
age  -and  appearance.  Mr.  Garrick  described  her  to  me  as  very  fat, 
with  a  bosom  of  more  than  ordinary  protuberance,  with  swelled 
cheeks,  of  a  florid  red,  produced  by  thick  painting,  and  increased  by 
the  liberal  use  of  cordials  ;  flaring  and  fantastic  in  her  dress,  and 
affected  both  in  her  speech  and  her  general  behaviour.'  I  have 
seen  Garrick  exhibit  her,  by  his  exquisite  talent  of  mimicry,  so  as  to 
excite  the  heartiest  bursts  of  laughter  ;  but  he,  probably,  as  is  the 
case  in  all  such  representations,  considerably  aggravated  the 
picture. 

That  Johnson  well  knew  the  most  proper  course  to  be  pursued  in 
t  .e  instruction  of  youth  is  authentically  ascertained  by  the  follow- 
iag  paper "  in  his  own  hand-writing,  given  about  this  period  to  a 
relation,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  John  Nichols  : 

'  As  Johnson  kept  Garrick  much  in  awe  when  present,  David,  when  his  back  was  turned, 
repaid  the  restraint  with  ridicule  of  him  and  his  dulcinea,  which  should  be  read  with  great 
abatement. — Pekcy. 

'■^  That  this  crude  sketch  for  the  arrangement  of  the  lower  classes  of  a  grammar-school 
*'  authefntically  ascertains  that  Jolinaou  well  knew  the  most  proper  course  to  be  pursued  in 


*'''^'^-2T-  SCHOOL    AT    EDIAL  81 

"  SCHKME    FUR    TUE    CLASSES    OF    A    GRAMMAR    SCHOOL 

"  When  the  introduction,  or  fornuitiou  of  nouns  and  verbs,  is  perfectly  mas- 
tered, let  them  learn 

"  Corderius  by  Mr.  Clarke,  beginning  at  the  same  time  to  translate  out  of 
the  introduction,  that  by  this  means  they  may  learn  the  syntax.  Then  let 
them  proceed  to  Erasmus,  with  au  Enghsh  translation,  by  the  same  author. 

"  Class  II.  learns  Eutropius  and  CorncUus  Nepos,  or  Justin,  with  the  transla- 
tion. 

•'N.  B.  The  first  class  gets  for  their  part  every  morning  the  rules  which 
Uioy  have  learned  before,  and  in  the  afternoon  loan»  the  Latin  rules  of  the 
nouns  and  verbs.  They  are  examined  in  the  rules  which  they  liave  learned, 
every  Thursday  and  Saturday. 

"  The  second  class  does  the  same  whilst  they  are  in  Eutropius  ;  afterwards 
«-heir  part  is  in  the  irregular  nouns  and  verbs,  and  in  the  rules  for  making  and 
scanning  verses.     They  are  examined  as  the  first. 

"  Class  III.  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  in  the  morning,  and  Ccesar's  Commen- 
taries in  the  afternoon. 

"  Practise  in  the  Latin  rules  till  they  are  perfect  in  them  ;  afterwards  in  Mr. 
Leeds's  '  Greek  Grammar.  Examined  as  before.  Afterwards  they  proceed  to 
Virgil,  beginning  at  the  same  time  to  write  themes  and  verses,  and  to  learn 
Qreek  ;  from  thence  passing  on  to  Horace,  &c.,  as  shall  seem  most  proper." 


"  I  know  not  well  what  books  to  direct  you  to,  because  you  have  not 
Miformed  me  what  study  yon  will  apply  yourself  to.  I  believe  it  will  be  most 
Cor  your  advantage  to  apply  yourself  wholly  to  the  languages,  till  you  go  to 
\he  "^.Iversity.     The  Greek  authors  I  thiiik  it  best  for  you  to  read  are  these  : 

Cebes. 

^Eliau  ^ 

Lucian  by  Leeds.  v  Attic. 

Xenophon.  1 

Homer.  Ionic. 

,he  instmciidii  of  youth,"  is  a  bold  and  illogical  assertion.  It  may  even  be  doubted  whether 
It  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  whether  the  beginning  with  authors  of  inferior  Inlinily,  and 
allowing  the  assistance  of  tranxlutions,  be,  indeed,  the  most  proper  course  of  classical 
/nstruction  ;  nor  are  we,  while  ignorant  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  for  which  the  paper 
was  drawn  up,  entitled  to  conclude  that  it  contains  Dr.  Johnson's  mature  and  general  senti- 
ments on  even  the  narrow  branch  of  education  to  which  it  refers.  Indeed,  in  the  second 
paper,  .Johnson  advises  his  Mend  not  to  read  "  the  latter  authors  till  you  are  well  versed  in 
those  oi  \.\\e  purer  ages." — Croker. 

1  Dr.  Edward  Leedes,  head  master  of  the  grammar-school  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds. 

2  Mr.  Boswell  has  printed  these  as  one  paper  ;  but  it  seems  clear  that  they  are  two  separate 
schemes,  the  first  for  a  scho«  I,  the  second  for  the  individual  studies  of  some  young  friend  - 
Crckgr, 


88  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^^• 

Theocritus.  Doric. 

Euripides.  Attic  and  Doric. 

"  Thus  you  will  be  tolerably  skilled  in  all  the  dialects,  beginning  with  the 
Attic,  to  which  the  rest  must  be  referred. 

"  In  the  study  of  Latin,  it  is  proper  not  to  read  the  latter  authors,  till  you 
are  well  versed  in  those  of  the  purest  ages  ;  as  Terence,  TuUy,  Caesar,  Sallust, 
Nepos,  Velleius  Paterculus,  Virgil,  Horace,  Ph^drus. 

"  The  greatest  and  most  necessary  task  still  remains,  to  obtain  a  habit  of 
expression,  without  which  knowledge  is  of  little  use.  This  is  necessary  in 
Latin,  and  more  necessary  in  English  ;  and  can  only  be  acquired  by  a  daily 
imitation  of  the  best%nd  correctest  authors.  " 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

While  Johnsoa  kept  his  academy,  there  can  be  uo  doubt  that  he 
was  insensibly  furnishing  his  mind  with  various  knowledge  ;  but  I 
have  not  discovered  that  he  wrote  anything  except  a  great  part  of 
his  tragedy  of  Irene.  Mr.  Peter  Garrick,  the  elder  brother  of 
David,  told  me  that  he  remembered  Johnson's  borrowing  the  Turk- 
ish History  '  of  him,  in  order  to  form  his  play  from  it.  When  he 
had  finished  »some  part  of  it,  he  read  what  he  had  done  to  Mr. 
Walmesley,  who  objected  to  his  having  already  brought  his  heroine 
into  great  distress,  and  asked  him,  "  How  can  you  possibly  contrive 
to  plunge  her  into  deeper  calamity  ?"  Johnson,  in  sly  allusion  to 
the  supposed  oppressive  proceedings  of  the  court  of  which  Mr. 
Walmesley  was  registrar,  replied,  "  Sir,  I  can  put  her  into  the  Spir- 
itual Court  !" 

Mr.  Walmesley,  however,  was  well  pleased  with  this  proof  of 
Johnson's  abilities  as  a  dramatic  writer,  and  advised  him  to  finish 
the  tragedy,  and  produce  it  on  the  stage. 

1  Of  KnoUes's  History  of  the  Turks,  Johnson  says,  in  the  Rambler,  "It  displays  all  the 
excelleucies  that  narration  can  admit,  and  nothing  could  have  sunk  its  author  in  obscurity, 
but  the  remoteness  and  barbarity  of  the  people  whose  story  he  relates."     No.  122. 

"  The  reverse  of  Johnson's  decision  we  conceive  to  be  more  ju.st.  Knolles  owes  his  fame, 
in  a  great  degree,  to  his  subject.  The  young  imagination  of  Byron  is  said  to  have  been 
strongly  e.xcited  by  the  kindling  pages  of  this  historian  :  we  suspect,  however,  that  it  was  the 
Turkish  character,  its  stern  vigour,  and  its  imposing  and  somewhat  mysterious  dignity,  even, 
pel  haps,  the  haughty  and  ferocious  visages,  in  their  noble  and  picturesque  costume  which 
struck  the  congenial  mind  of  the  poet."— Quarterly  Review,  vol.  xlix.  p.  285. 


CHAPTER   V, 

1737—1738. 

fohnson  goes  to  London  with  David  Garrick — Takes  Lodgings  in  Exeter  Street — Retires  t« 
Greenwich,  and  proceeds  with  "  Irene  " — Projects  a  Translation  of  the  History  of  the 
Council  of  Trent — Returns  to  Lichfield,  and  finishes  "  Irene  " — Removes  to  London  with  liia 
Wife — Becomes  a  Writer  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

JoHNSox  now  thought  of  trying-  his  fortune  in  London,  the  great 
field  of  genius  and  exertion,  where  talents  of  every  kind  have  the 
fullest  scope  and  the  highest  encouragement.  It  is  a  memorable 
circumstance,  that  his  pupil,  David  Garrick,  went  thither  at  the 
same  time,'  with  intent  to  complete  his  education,  and  follow  the 
profession  of  the  law,  from  which  he  was  soon  diverted  by  his 
decided  preference  for  the  stage. 

This  joint  expedition  of  those  two  eminent  men  to  the  metropolis 
was  many  years  afterwards  noticed  in  an  allegorical  poem  on 
Shakspeare's  mulberry  tree,  by  Mr.  Lovibond,  the  ingenious  authoi 
of  "  The  Tears  of  Old-May-day." 

They  were  recommended  to  Mr.  Colson,*  an  eminent  mathema 

'  Both  of  them  used  to  talk  pleasantly  of 'this  their  first  journey  to  London.  Garrick,  evl 
dently  meaning  to  embellish  a  littlq,  said  one  day  in  my  hearing,  "  We  rode  and  tied."  And 
tlie  Bishop  of  Killaloe  (Dr.  Barnard)  informed  me,  that  at  another  time,  when  Johnson  and 
Garrick  were  dining  together  in  a  pretty  large  company,  Johnson  humourously  ascertaining 
the  chronology  of  something,  expressed  himself  thus  : — "  That  was  the  year  when  I  came  to 
London  with  two-pence  halfpenny  in  my  pocket."  Garrick  overhearing  him,  exclnimed, 
"  Eh?  what  do  you  say  ?  with  two-pence  halfpenny  in  your  pocket?"  Johnson — "  Why,  yes ; 
when  I  came  witt  two-pence  half-penny  in  mi/  pocket,  and  thou,  Davy,  with  three-halfpence 
in  thine." — Boswell. 

This  mai/  have  been  said  in  raillery,  but  could  not  have  been  true.  Indeed,  Boswell,  in  the 
next  page,  acknowledges  that  Johnson  had  a  little  monej'  at  his  arrival;  but,  however  that 
may  be,  Garrick,  a  young  gentleman  coming  to  town,  not  as  an  adventurer,  but  to  complete 
his  education  and  prepare  for  the  bar,  could  not  have  been  in  such  indigent  circumstances. — 
Croker. 

'  The  Rev.  John  Colson  became,  in  1709,  first  master  of  -he  free  school  at  Rochester.  In 
1739,  he  was  appointed  Lucasian  Professor  of  Mathematics  at  Cambridge  ;  and  died  in  Decem- 
ber, 1759.     "  Mrs.  Piozzi,"  observes  Mr.  Croker,  "  has  stated  that  the  character  of  Oelidus, 

89 


90  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON  1^^' 

tician  and  master   of   an  academy,    by   the  following  letter  from 
Mr.  Walmesley  : 

Letter  2.  TO  THE  REV.  MR.  COLSON. 

"  Lichfield,  Jifaixh  2, 1737. 

"Dear  Sir  : — I  had  the  favour  of  yours,  and  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  > 
but  I  cannot  say  I  had  a  greater  affection  for  you  upon  it  than  I  had  before, 
being  long  since  so  much  endeared  to  you,  as  well  by  an  early  friendship,  as  by 
your  many  excellent  and  valuable  qualifications ;  and,  had  I  a  son  of  my  own, 
it  would  be  my  ambition,  instead  of  sending  him  to  the  university,  to  dispose  of 
him  as  this  young  gentleman  is. 

"He,  and  another  ueiglibour  of  mine,  one  Mr.  Samuel  Johnson,  set  out  this 
morning  for  London  together.  Davy  Garrick  to  be  with  you  fearly  the  next 
week,  and  Mr.  Johnson  to  try  his  fate  with  a  tragedy,  and  to  see  to  get  him- 
self employed  in  some  translation,  either  from  the  Latin  or  the  French. 
Johnson  is  a  very  good  scholar  and  poet,  and  I  have  great  hopes  will  turn  out 
a  fine  tragedy  writer.  If  it  should  any  way  He  in  your  way,  doubt  not  but 
you  would  be  ready  to  recommend  and  assist  your  countryman, 

"  G.  Walmesley." 

How  he  employed  himself  upon  his  first  coming  to  London  is  not 
particularly  known.'  I  never  heard  that  he  found  any  protection  or 
encouragement  by  the  means  of  Mr.  Colson,  to  whose  academy 
David  Garrick  went.  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter  told  me  that  Mr.  Walmesley 
gave  him  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Lintot,  his  bookseller,  and  that 
Johnson  wrote  some  things  for  him  ;  but  I  imagine  this  to  be  a  mis- 
take, for  I  have  discovered  no  trace  of  it,  and  I  am  pretty  sure  he 
told  me  that  Mr.  Cave  was  the  first  publisher  by  whom  his  pen  was 
engaged  in  London. 

He  had  a  little  money  when  he  came  to  town,  and  he  knew  how 
he  could  live  in  the  cheapest  manner.     His  first  lodgings  were  at 


in  the  24th  Rambler,  was  meant  to  represent  Mr.  Colson;  but  this  may  be  doubted,  for,  as 
Mr.  Colson  resided  constantly  at  Rochester  till  his  removal  to  Cambridge,  it  is  not  likely  that 
Mr.  Walmesley's  letter  could  produce  any  intercourse  or  acquaintance  between  him  and 
Johnson  ;  and  it  appears,  from  Davies's  Life  of  Garrick  (vol.  i.  p.  14),  a  work  revised  by 
Johnson,  that  Mr.  Colson's  character  could  have  no  resemblance  to  the  absurdities  of 
Gelidus." 

-  One  curious  anecdote  was  communicated  by  himself  to  Mr.  John  Nichols.  Mr.  Wilcox 
the  bookseller,  on  being  informed  by  him  that  his  intention  was  to  get  his  livelihood  as  au 
author,  eyed  his  robust  frame  attentively,  and,  with  a  significant  look,  said,  "  You  had  betlfM 
buy  a  porter's  knot,"     He,  however,  added,  "  Wilcox  was  one  of  my  best  friends." 


*TAr  2a  ARRIVAL   IN   LONDON.  9l 

the  house  of  Mr.  Norri's,  a  staymaker,  in  Exeter  Street,  adjoining 
Catharine  Street,  in  the  Strand.  "  I  dined,"  said  he,  "  very  well 
for  eight-pence,  with  very  good  company,  at  the  Pine-Apple  in  New 
Street,  just  by.  Several  of  them  had  travelled.  They  expected  to 
meet  every  day,  but  did  not  know  one  another's  names.  It  used  to 
cost  the  rest  a  shilling,  for  they  drank  wine  ;  but  I  had  a  cut  of 
meat  for  sixpence,  and  bread  for  a  penny,  and  gave  the  waiter  a 
penny  ;  so  that  I  was  quite  well  served,  nay,  better  than  the  rest, 
for  they  gave  the  waiter  nothing." ' 

He  at  this  time,  I  believe,  abstained  entirely  from  fermented 
liquors  :  a  practice  to  which  he  rigidly  conformed  for  many  years 
togetlier,  at  ditfereut  periods  of  his  life.'' 

His  Ofellus,  in  the  Art  of  Living  in  London,'  I  have  heard  him 
relate,  was  an  Irish  painter,  whom  he  knew  at  Birmingham,  and  who 
had  practised  his  own  precepts  of  economy  for  several  years  in  the 
British  capital.  He  assured  Johnson,  who,  I  suppose,  was  then 
meditating  to  try  his  fortune  in  London,  but  was  apprehensive  of  the 
expense,  "  that  thirty  pounds  a  year  was  enough  to  enable  a  man  to 

1  Painful  as  it  is  to  relate,  I  have  heard  Dr.  Johnson  assert,  that  he  subsisted  himself,  for  a 
donsiderable  space  of  time,  upon  the  scanty  pittance  of  four-pence  halfpenny  per  day. — 
Clmberland. 

2  At  this  time  his  abstinence  from  wine  may,  perhaps,  be  attributed  to  poverty,  but  in  his 
subseciuent  life  he  was  restrained  from  that  indulgence  by,  as  it  appears,  moral,  or  rather 
medical,  considerations.  He  probably  found  by  experience  that  wine,  though  it  dissipated  for 
a  moment,  yet  eventually  aggravated  th«  hereditary  disease  under  which  he  suffered ;  and 
perhaps  it  may  have  been  owing  to  a  long  course  of  abstinence,  that  his  mental  health  seems 
to  have  been  better  in  the  latter  than  in  the  earlier  portion  of  his  life.  He  says,  in  his 
Prayers  and  Meditations,  "  By  abstinence  from  wine  and  suppers,  I  obtained  sudden  and 
great  relief,  and  had  freedom  of  mind  restored  to  me ;  which  I  have  wanted  for  all  this  year, 
without  being  able  to  find  any  means  of  obtaining  it." — Croker. 

^  ["  Qu»  virtus  et  quanta,  boni,  sit  vivere  parvo, 

(Nee  meus  hie  sermo  ;  sed  quae  praecepit  Ofellus, 
Rusticus,  abnormis  sapiens,  crassar(ue  Minerva,) 
Discite,  non  inter  lances  mensaque  nitentes." 

HoR.  Sat.  ii.  lib.  il. 

"What  and  how  great,  the  virtue  and  the  art, 
To  live  on  little  with  a  cheerful  heart, 
*         (A  doctrine  sage,  but,  truly,  none  of  mine,) 

Let's  talk,  my  friends,  but  talk  before  we  dine." 

Pope,  iTnit. 

Tlie  OJ'ellu«  of  Horace  was  an  honest  countryman,  whose  patrimony  had  been  seized  by 
Augustus,  and  given  to  one  of  the  soldiers  that  had  served  against  Brutus  and  Cassius.] 


92  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOJf.  '^^^• 

live  there  without  being  contemptible.  He  allowed  ten  pounds  for 
clothes  and  linen.  He  said  a  man  might  live  in  a  garret  at  eighteeu- 
pence  a  week  ;  few  people  would  enquire  where  he  lodged  ;  and  if 
•  they  did,  it  was  easy  to  say,  '  Sir,  I  am  to  be  found  at  such  a  place. 
By  spending  three-pence  in  a  coffee-house,  he  might  be  for  some 
hours  every  day  in  very  good  company  ;  he  might  dine  for  sixpence, 
breakfast  on  bread  and  milk  for  a  penny,  and  do  without  supper. 
On  clean-shirt-day  he  went  abroad,  and  paid  visits."  I  have  heard 
him  more  than  once  talk  of  his  frugal  friend,  whom  he  recollected 
with  esteem  and  kindness,  and  did  not  like  to  have  one  smile  at  the 
recital.  "  This  man,"  said  he,  gravely,  "  was  a  very  sensible  man, 
who  perfectly  understood  common  affairs  :  a  man  of  a  great  deal  of 
knowledge  of  the  world,  fresh  from  life,  not  strained  through  books. 
He  borrowed  a  horse  and  ten  pounds  at  Birmingham.  Finding  him- 
self master  of  so  much  money,  he  set  off  for  West  Chester,  in  order 
to  get  to  Ireland.  He  returned  the  horse,  and  probably  the  ten 
pounds  too,  after  he  had  got  home." 

Considering  Johnson's  narrow  circumstances  in  the  early  part  of 
his  Ufe,  and  particularly  at  the  interesting  era  of  his  launching  into 
the  ocean  of  London,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  an  actual 
instance,  proved  by  experience,  of  the  possibility  of  enjoying  the 
intellectual  luxury  of  social  life  upon  a  very  small  income,  should 
deeply  engage  his  attention,  and  be  ever  recollected  by  him  as  a  cir- 
cumstance of  much  importance.  He  amused  himself,  I  remember, 
by  computing  how  much  more  expense  was  absolutely  necessary  to 
live  upon  the  same  scale  with  that  which  his  friend  described,  when 
the  value  of  money  was  diminished  by  the  progress  of  commerce.  It 
may  be  estimated  that  double  the  money  might  now  with  difficulty 
be  sufficient. 

Amidst  this  cold  obscurity,  there  was  one  brilliant  circumstance  to 
cheer  hhn  ;  he  was  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Henry  Hervey,'  one  of 
the  branches  of  the  noble  family  of  that  name,  who  had  been  quar- 
tered at  Lichfield  as  an  officer  of  the  armv,  and  had  at  this  time  a 

>> 

>  The  Hon.  Henry  Hervey,  third  son  of  the  first  Earl  of  Bristol,  quitted  the  army  and  took 
orders.  He  married  a  sister  of  Sir  Thomas  Aston,  by  whom  he  got  the  Aston  Estate,  and 
assumed  the  name  and  arms  of  that  family. — Boswell. 

Mr.  Harvey's  acquaintance  and  kindness  Johnson  probably  owed  to  his  friend  Walmesley 
Hervey  and  Walmesley,  it  will  be  recollected,  married  two  sisters. — Croker. 


■^^''■^-  LEiTER    FROM    GREEXWICH.  93 

house  in  London,  where  Johnson  was  frequently  entertained,  and  had 
an  opportunity  of  meeting  genteel  company.  Xot  very  long  before 
his  death,  he  mentioned  this,  among  other  particulars  of  his  life 
which  he  was  kindly  communicating  to  me  ;  and  he  described  this 
early  friend  "  Harry  Hervey,"  thus  :  "He  was  a  vicious  man,'  but 
very  kind  to  me.     If  you  call  a  dog  Hervey  I  shall  love  him." 

He  told  me  he  had  now  written  only  three  acts  of  his  Irexe,  and 
that  he  retired  for  some  time  to  lodgings  at  Greenwich,  where  he 
proceeded  in  it  somewhat  further,  and  used  to  compose,  walking  in 
the  Park  ;  but  did  not  stay  long  enough  at  that  place  to  finish  it. 

At  this  period  we  find  the  following  letter  from  him  to  Mr.  Edward 
Cave,  which,  as  a  link  in  the  chain  of  his  literary  history,  it  is  proper 
to  insert : 

Letter  3.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

"Grkksttich,  next  door  to  the  Golden  Heart,  Church  Street,  July  12, 1787. 

"  Sir, — HaYiug  observed  in  your  papers  very  uucommon  offers  of  encourage- 
ment to  men  of  kUers,  I  have  chosen,  being  a  stranger  in  Loudon,  to  commu- 
nicate to  you  the  following  design,  which,  I  hope,  if  you  join  in  it,  will  be  of 
advantage  to  both  of  us. 

"  The  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent  having  been  lately  translated  into 
French,  and  published  with  large  notes  by  Dr.  Le  Courayer,  the  reputation  of 
that  book  is  so  much  revived  in  England,  that,  it  is  presumed,  a  new  transla- 
tion of  it  from  the  ItuHan,^  together  with  Le  Courayer's  notes  from  the  French 
could  not  fail  of  a  favourable  reception. 

"  If  it  be  answered,  that  the  History  is  already  in  English,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, that  there  was  the  same  objection  against  Le  Courayer's  tmdertaking, 
with  this  disadvantage,  that  the  French  had  a  version  by  one  of  their  best 
translators,  whereas  you  cannot  read  three  pages  of  the  English  history  with- 
out discovering  that  the  style  is  capable  of  great  improvements ;  but  whether 
those  improvements  are  to  be  expected  from  this  attempt,  you  must  judge  from 
the  specimen,  which,  if  you  approve  the  proposal,  I  shall  submit  to  your 
examination. 

"  Suppose  the  merit  of  the  versions  equal,  we  may  hope  that  the  addition  of 
the  notes  will  tm-n  the  balance  in  our  favour,  considering  the  reputation  of  the 
anuotator. 

1  For  the  excesses  which  I>r.  Johnson  characterise  as  vicious,  Mr.  Hervey  was,  probably 
as  much  to  hepiiicd  as  blamed     He  was  rertf  iccentric. — Cboeer. 

■■'  This  proves  that  JohnsoD  Lad  now  acquired  Italian ;  probably  directed  to  that  study  by 
the  volume  of  Petrarch  (mentioned  anU,  p.  53),  the  latter  part  of  which  conlained  his  Italian 
poems. — CsoKEB. 


^94  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ''•'^^'^ 

"  Be  pleased  to  favour  me  with  a  speedy  answer,  if  you  are  not  willing  to 
engage  in  this  scheme  ;  and  appoint  me  a  day  to  wait  upon  you,  if  you  are.  I 
am,  Sir,  your  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson." 

It  should  seem  from  tliis  letter,  tliougli  subscribed  with  his  own 
name,  that  he  had  not  yet  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Cave.  We  shall 
presently  see  what  was  done  in  consequence  of  the  proposal  which 
it  contains. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  he  returned  to  Lichfield,  where  he 
had  left  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  there  he  at  last  finished  his  tragedy, 
which  was  not  executed  with  his  rapidity  of  composition  upon  other 
occasions,  but  was  slowly  and  painfully  elaborated.  A  few  days 
before  his  death,  while  burning  a  great  mass  of  papers,  he  picked 
out  from  among  them  the  original  unformed  sketch  of  this  tragedy, 
in  his  own  hand- writing,  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  Langton,  by  whose 
favour  a  copy  of  it  is  now  in  my  possession.  It  contains  fragments 
of  the  intended  plot,  and  speeches  for  the  different  persons  of  the 
drama,  partly  in  the  raw  materials  of  prose,  partly  worked  up  into 
verse  ;  as  also  a  variety  of  hints  for  illustration,  borrowed  from  the 
Greek,  Koman,  and  modern  writers.  The  handwriting  is  very  diffi' 
cult  to  be  read,  even  by  those  who  were  best  acquainted  with  John- 
son's mode  of  penmanship,  which  at  all  times  was  very  particular. 
The  King  having  graciously  accepted  of  this  manuscript  as  a  literary 
curiosity,  Mr.  Langton  made  a  fair  and  distinct  copy  of  it,  which  he 
ordered  to  be  bound  up  with  the  original  and  the  printed  tragedy  ; 
and  the  volume  is  deposited  in  the  King's  library.  His  Majesty 
was  pleased  to  permit  Mr.  Langton  to  take  a  copy  of  it  for 
himself. 

The  whole  of  it  is  rich  in  thought  and  imagery,  and  happy  ex- 
pressions ;  and  of  the  disjecta  membra  scattered  throughout,  and  as 
yet  unarranged,  a  good  dramatic  poet  might  avail  himself  with  con- 
siderable advantage.  I  shall  give  my  readers  some  specimens  of 
different  kinds,  distinguishing  them  by  the  itaUc  character. 

"'  Nor  think  to  say,  here  will  I  stop, 
Here  will  I  fix  the  limits  of  transgression, 
Nor  farther  tempt  the  avenging  rage  of  heaven. 
When  guilt  like  this  once  harbours  in  the  breast^ 


*»«•  88-  LICHFIELD — IRENE.  05 

Those  holy  belnyi,  whose  unseen  direction 
Guides  through  the  maze  of  life  the  steps  of  man, 
Fly  the  detested  mansions  of  impiety. 
And  quit  their  charge  to  horror  and  to  ruin." 

A  small  part  only  of  this  interesting  admonition  is  preserved  ia 
tne  play,  and  is  varied,  I  thinii,  not  to  advantage  : 

"  The  soul  once  tainted  with  so  foul  a  crime, 
No  more  shall  glow  with  friendship's  hallow'd  ardour, 
Those  holy  beings  whose  superior  care 
Guides  erring  mortals  to  the  paths  of  virtue, 
Aifi-ighted  at  impiety  like  thine, 
Resign  their  charge  to  baseness  and  to  ruin." 

"  I  feel  the  soft  infection 
Flush  in  my  cheek,  and  wander  in  my  veins. 
Teach  me  the  Grecian  arts  of  soft  persuasion. 

*'/9«re  this  is   love,  which  heretofore  I  conceived  the  dream  of  idle  maidsy  and 
mnUon  poets.'''' 

*'  Tliouyh  no  comets  or  prodigies  foretold  the  ruin  of  Greece,  sigiis  which 
luaven  must  by  another  miracle  enable  iis  to  understand,  yet  might  it  be  fore' 
l4Mm,  by  tokens  no  less  certain,  by  the  vices  _which  always  bring  it  onj" 

The  last  passage  is  worked  up  in  the  tragedy  itself  as  follows  : 

Leontics. 

"  That  power  that  kindly  spreada 

The  clouds,  a  signal  of  impending  showers. 
To  warn  the  wand'ring  linnet  to  the  shade, 
Beheld,  without  concern,  expiring  Greece, 
And  not  one  prodigy  foretold  our  fate. 

Demetrius. 
"  A  thousand  horrid  prodigies  foretold  it ; 
A  feeble  government,  eluded  laws, 
A  factious  populace,  luxurious  nobles, 
And  all  the  maladies  of  sinking  states: 
When  public  villany,  too  strong  for  justice, 
Shows  his  bold  front,  the  harbinger  of  ruin, 
Can  brave  Leontius  call  for  airy  wonders, 
Which  cheats  interpret,  and  which  fools  regard  f 


9G  LIFE    OP   JOHNSON.  ^'^^• 

When  some  neglected  fabric  nods  beneath 
The  weight  of  years,  and  totters  to  the  temp'^st, 
Must  heaven  despatch  the  messengers  of  light, 
Or  wake  the  dead,  to  warn  us  of  its  fall?" 

Mahomet  (to  Irene).  "  I  have  tried  thee,  and  joy  to  find  that  thou  deserves 
(■'•  he  loved  hy  Mahomet — viith  a  mind  yreat  as  his  own.  Sure,  thou  art  an  errot 
of  nature,  and  an  exception  to  the  rest  of  thy  sex,  a7id  art  immortal ;  for  senti 
merits  like  thine  were  never  to  sink  into  nothing.  I  thought  all  the  thoughts  oj 
the  fair  had  been  to  select  the  graces  of  the  day,  dispose  the  colours  of  the  fi  aunt 
ing  {fiovnng)  robe,  tune  the  voice  and  roll  the  eye,  place  the  gem,  choose  t/» 
dress,  ana  add  new  loses  to  the  fading  cheek,  but — sparkliitg." 

Thus  in  the  tragedy  : 

"Illustrious  maid,  new  wonders  fix  me  thine; 
Thy  soul  completes  the  triumphs  of  thy  face; 
I  thought,  forgive  my  fair,  the  noblest  aim, 
The  strongest  effort  of  a  female  soul, 
Was  but  to  choose  the  graces  of  the  day, 
To  tune  the  tongue,  to  teach  the  eyes  to  roll. 
Dispose  the  colours  of  the  flowing  robe, 
And  add  new  roses  to  the  faded  cheek." 

r  shall  select  one  other  passage,  on  account  of  the  doctrine  whicL 
"t  illustrates. 

Irene  observes,  "  that  the  Supreme  Being  icill  accept  of  virtue,  whatever  out- 
ward  circumstances  it  may  be  accompanied  with,  and  may  be  delighted  with 
varieties  of  worship  :  but  is  answered,  That  variety  cannot  a  feet  that  Being, 
who,  infinitely  happy  in  his  own  perfections,  wants  no  external  gratifications  ; 
nor  can  infinite  truth  be  delighted  with  falsehood  ;  that  though  he  7nay  guide  or 
■pity  those  he  leaves  in  darkness,  he  abandons  those  who  shut  their  eyes  agaiitst 
the  beams  of  day." 

Johnson's  residence  at  Lichfield,  on  his  return  to  it  at  this  time, 
f.-as  only  for  three  m®nths  ;  and  as  he  had  as  yet  seen  but  a  small 
part  of  the  wonders  of  the  metropolis,  he  had  little  to  tell  his  tomis- 
men.  He  related  to  me  [Sept.  20,  1773],  the  following  minute 
anecdote  of  this  period  : — "  In  the  last  age,  when  my  mother  lived 
n  Loudon,  there  were  two  sets  of  people,  those  who  gave  the  wall, 
and  those  who  took  it  ;  the  peaceable  and  the  quarrelsome.  When 
I  returned  to  Tnchfield,  after  having  been  in  London,  my  mother 


*»AT  2S.  LICHFIELD — LONDO}^.  97 

iisked  me,  wlietlier  I  was  one  of  tliose  who  gave  the  wall,  or  those 
who  took  it.  Now  it  is  fixed  that  every  mau  keeps  to  the  right  ; 
or,  if  one  is  taking  the  wall,  another  yields  it  ;  and  it  is  never  a 
dispute." 

lie  now  removed  to  London  with  Mrs.  Johnson  ;  but  her  daugh- 
ter, who  had  lived  with  them  at  Edial,  was  left  with  her  relations  in 
the  country.  His  lodgings  were  for  some  time  in  Woodstock  Street, 
near  Hanover  Square,  and  afterwards  in  Castle  Street,  near  Caven- 
dish Square.  As  there  is  something  pleasingly  interesting,  to  many, 
in  tracing  so  great  a  man  through  all  his  different  habitations,  1 
shall,  before  this  work  is  concluded,  present  my  readers  with  au 
exact  list  of  his  lodgings  and  houses,  in  order  of  time,  which,  in 
placid  condescension  to  my  respectful  curiosity,  he  one  evening 
[Oct.  10,  1*179]  dictated  to  m'e,  but  wit'liout  specifying  how  long  he 
lived  at  each.  In  the  progress  of  his  life  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
•"cntion  some  of  them  as  connected  with  particular  incidents,  or 
with  the  writing  of  particular  parts  of  his  works.  To  some,  this 
minute  attention  may  appear  trifling  ;  but  when  we  consider  the 
punctilious  exactness  with  which  the  different  houses  in  which  Mil- 
ton resided  have  been  traced  by  the  writers  of  his  life,  a  similar 
enthusiasm  may  be  pardoned  in  the  biographer  of  Johnson. 

His  tragedy  being  by  this  time,  as  he  thought,  completely  finished 
and  fit  for  the  stage,  he  was  very  desirous  that  it  should  be  brought 
forward.  Mr.  Peter  Garrick  told  me,  that  Johnson  and  he  went 
together  to  the  Fountain  tavern,  and  read  it  over,  and  that  he  after- 
wards solicited  Mr.  Fleetwood,  the  patentee  of  Drury  Lane  theatre, 
to  have  it  acted  at  his  house  ;  but  Mr.  Fleetwood  would  not  accept 
it,  probably  because  it  was  not  patronised  by  some  man  of  high 
rank  ;  and  it  was  not  acted  till  1749,  when  his  friend  David  Gar- 
rick was  manager  of  that  theatre. 

The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  begun  and  carried  on  by  Mr.  Edward 
Cave,  under  the  name  of  Sylvanus  Urban,  had  attracted  the  notice 
and  esteem  of  Johnson,  in  an  eminent  degree,  before  he  came  to 
London  as  an  adventurer  in  literature.  He  told  me  that  when  he 
first  saw  St.  John's  Gate,  the  place  where  that  deservedly  popular 
miscellany  was  originally  printed,  he  "  beheld  it  with  reverence."  ' 

1  If,  as  Mr.  Boswell  supposes,  Johnson  looked  at  St.  John's  Gate  as  the  printing-oHice  ef 

5 


98  UFE    OP   JOHNSOIf.  *^*- 

1  8uppo^5<i,  iuaeed,  that  every  young  author  has  had  the  same  kind 
of  feeling  for  the  magazine  or  periodical  publication  which  has  first 
entertained  liim,  and  in  which  he  has  first  had  an  opportunity  to  see 
himself  in  print,  without  the  risk  of  exposing  his  name.  I  myself 
recollect  such  impressions  from  the  Scots  Magazine,  which  was 
begun  at  Edinburgh  in  the  year  1739,  and  has  been  ever  conducted 
with  judgment,  accuracy,  and  propriety.  I  yet  cannot  help  think- 
ing of  it  with  an  affectionate  regard.  Johnson  has  dignified  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine  by  the  importance  with  which  he  invests  the 
life  of  Cave  ;  but  he  has  given  it  still  greater  lustre  by  the  various 
admirable  essays  which  he  wrote  for  it. 

Though  Johnson  was  often  solicited  by  his  friends  to  make  a  com- 
plete list  of  his  writings,  and  talked  of  doing  it,  I  believe  with  a 
serious  intention  that  they  should  all  be  collected  on  his  own  account, 
he  put  it  off  from  year  to  year,  and  at  last  died  without  having 
done  it  perfectly.  I  have  one  in  his  own  handwriting,  which  con 
tains  a  certain  number  ;  I  indeed  doubt  if  he  could  have  remem- 
bered every  one  of  them,  as  they  were  so  numerous,  so  various,  and 
scattered  in  such  a  multiplicity  of  unconnected  publications  ;  nay, 
several  of  them  pubhshed  under  the  names  of  other  persons,  to 
whom  he  liberally  contributed  from  the  abundance  of  his  mind.  We 
must,  therefore,  be  content  to  discover  them,  partly  from  occasional 
information  given  by  him  to  his  friends,  and  partly  from  internal 
evidence/  * 

His  first  performance  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  which  for 
many  years  was  his  principal  source  of  employment  and  support 
was  a  copy  of  Latin  verses,  in  March,  1738,  addressed  to  the  editor 

Cave,  surely  a  less  emphatical  term  than  reverence  would  have  been  more  just.  The  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  had  been,  at  this  time,  but  six  years  before  the  public,  and  its  contents  were, 
until  Johnson  himself  contributed  to  imjirove  it,  entitled  to  anything  rather  than  revei-ence  ; 
but  it  is  much  more  probable  that  Johnson's  reverence  was  excited  by  the  recollections  con- 
nected with  the  ancient  gate  itself,  the  last  relic  of  the  once  extensive  and  magnificent 
priory  of  the  heroic  knights  of  the  order  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem,  suppressed  at  the  dissolu- 
tion, and  destroyed  by  successive  dilapidations.  Its  last  prior,  Sir  AVilliam  Weston,  though 
compensated  with  the  annual  pension  (enormous  in  those  days)  of  £1000,  died  of  a  brokea 
heart,  on  Ascension-day,  1540,  the  very  day  the  house  was  suppressed.— Croker. 

1  While,  in  the  course  of  my  narrative,  I  enumerate  his  writings,  I  shall  take  care  that  my 
readers  shall  not  be  left  to  waver  in  doubt,  between  certainty  and  conjecture,  with  regard  to 
their  authenticity;  and,  for  that  purpose,  shall  mark  with  an  asietUk  i*)  those  waich  he 
acknowledged  to  his  friends,  and  with  a  dagger  (t)  those  which  are  ascertained  to  be  hifl  by 
internal  evidence.    When  any  other  pieces  are  ascribed  to  him,  I  shall  give  my  reasons. 


^TAT.  20.  gentleman's  magazine.  99 

in  so  happy  a  style  of  compliment,  that  Cave  must  have  been  desti 
tute  both  of  taste  and  sensibility,  had  he  not  felt  himself  highly 
gratified. 

Ad  Urbanum.* 

TTrbane,  nullis  fesse  laboribu8, 

Urbane,  nullis  victe  calumniis, 

Cui  fronte  sertura  in  erudita 

Perpetuo  viret  et  virebit; 

Quid  raoliatur  gens  imitantium, 
Quid  et  minetur,  solicitus  pamm, 
Vacare  soils  perge  Musis, 
Juxta  animo  studiisque  felix. 

Linguae  procacis  plumbea  spicula, 
Fidens,  superbo  frange  silentio ; 
Victrix  per  obstantcs  catervas 
Sedulitas  animosa  tendet. 

Intende  nervos,  fortis,  inanibus 
Risurus  olim  nisibus  semuli : 
Intende  jam  nervos,  habebia 
Particepcs  operse  Camoenas. 

Non  uUa  Musis  pagina  gratior, 
Quam  quje  severis  ludicra  jungere 
Novit,  I'atigatamque  uugis 
Utilibus  recreare  nientem. 

Texente  nympliis  serta  Lycoride, 
Rdsae  ruborem  sic  viola  adjuvat 
Immista,  sic  Iris  refulget 
Jilthereis  variata  fuels. 

It  appears  that  he  was  now  enlisted  by  Mr.  Cave  as  a  regalar 
coadjutor  in  his  Magazine,  by  whieh  he  probably  obtained  a  tolera- 
ble livelihood.  At  what  time,  or  by  what  means,  he  had  acquired 
a  competent  knowledge  both  of  French  and  Italian,  I  do  not  know  ; 
but  he  was  so  well  skilled  in  them,  as  to  be  sufficiently  qualified  for 
a  translator.     That  part  of  his  labour  which  consisted  in  emenda 


100  LIVE    OF    JOUNSOX.  ^'^ 

tiou  aucl  improvemout  of  the  productions  of  other  contributors,  like 
that  employed  in  levelling  ground,  can  be  perceived  only  by  those 
who  had  an  opportunity  of  comparing  the  original  with  the  altered 
copy.  What  we  certainly  know  to  have  been  done  by  him  in  this 
way  was  the  debates  in  both  houses  of  Parliament,  under  the  name 
of  "  The  Senate  of  Lilliput,"  sometimes  with  feigned  denominations 
of  the  several  speakers,  sometimes  with  denominations  formed  of  the 
letters  of  their  real  names,  in  the  manner  of  what  is  called  anagram, 
so  that  they  might  easily  be  deciphered.  Parliament  then  kept  the 
press  in  a  kind  of  mysterious  awe,  which  made  it  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  such  devices.  In  our  time  it  has  acquired  an  unre- 
strained freedom,  so  that  the  people  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom  have 
a  fair,  open,  and  exact  rej^rt  of  the  actual  proceedings  of  their 
representatives  and  legislators,  which  in  our  constitution  is  highly 
to  be  valued  ;  though,  unquetsionably,  there  has  of  late  been  too 
much  reason  to  complain  of  the  petulance  with  which  obscure  scril> 
biers  have  presumed  to  treat  men  of  the  most  respectable  character 
and  situation. 

This 'important  article  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  was,  for  seve- 
ral years,  executed  by  Mr.  William  Guthrie,  a  man  who  deserves  to 
be  recorded  in  the  literary  annals  of  this  country.  He  was  descended 
of  an  ancient  family  in  Scotland  ;  but,  having  a  small  patrimony, 
and  being  an  adherent  of  the  unfortunate  house  of  Stuart,  he  could 
not  accept  any  office  in  the  State  ;  he  therefore  came  to  London,  and 
employed  his  talents  and  learning  as  an  "  author  by  profession." 
His  writings  in  history,  criticism,  and  politics,  had  considerable 
merit.*  He  was  the  first  English  historian  who  had  recourse  to  that 
authentic  source  of  information,  the  Parliamentary  Journals  ;  and 
such  was  the  power  of  his  political  pen,  that,  at  an  early  period,  govern- 
ment thought  it  worth  their  while  to  keep  it  quiet  by  a  pension, 
which  he  enjoyed  till  his  death.  Johnson  esteemed  him  enough  to 
wish  that  his  life  should  be  written.  The  debates  in  Parliament, 
which  were  brought  home  and  digested  by  Guthrie,  whose  memory, 


'  How  much  poetry  he  wrote,  I  know  not;  but  he  informed  me  that  he  was  the  author  of 
the  beautiful  little  piece,  "  The  Eagle  and  Robin  Redbreast,"  in  the  collection  of  poems  en- 
titled "The  Union,"  though  it  ia  there  said  to  be  written  by  Alexander  Scott,  before  the  year 
1600. 


^rXT.W.  PARLIAME.VTAKY    DEBATES.  101 

though  surpassed  by  others  who  have  since  followed  him  iu  the  same 
department,  was  yet  very  quick  and  tenacious,  were  sent  by  Cave  to 
Johnson  for  his  revision  ;  and,  after  some  time,  when  Guthrie  had 
attained  to  greater  variety  of  employment,  and  the  speeches  were 
more  and  more  enriched  by  the  accession  of  Johnson's  genius,  it  was 
resolved  that  he  should  do  the  whole  himself,  from  the  scanty  notes 
furnished  by  persons  emjlr/ed  to  attend  Ji  both  houses  of  Parlia- 
ment. Sometimes,  however,  as  he  himself  told  me,  he  had  nothing 
more  communicated  to  him  tbiin  the  naaes  of  the  several  speakers, 
and  the  part  which  they  had  taken  in  the  debate 


CHAPTER    VI. 
1738—1741. 

/ohn^on  publishes  "  London  Poem"  —Letters  to  Cave  relaclng  thereto — Endeavours,  wnn- 

out  Success,  to  obtain  the  Degree  of  Master  of  Arts — Recommended  ty  Pope  to  Earl  Gower 
—The  Earl's  Letter  on  his  Behalf— Begins  a  Translation  of  Father  Paul  Sarpi's  History- 
Publishes  "  A  Complete  Vindication  of  the  Licensers  of  the  Stage,"  and  "  Marmor  Norfol- 
ciense" — Pope's  Note  to  Richardson  concerning  him— Characteristic  Anecdotes — Writes  the 
Debates  in  Parliament,  under  the  Disguise  of  "  the  Senate  of  Lilliput." 

Thus  was  Johnson  employed  during  some  of  the  best  years  of  his 
life,  as  a  mere  literary  labourer  "  for  gain,  not  glory,"  solely  to  obtain 
an  honest  support.  He,  however,  indulged  himself  in  occasional 
little  sallies,  which  the  French  so  happily  express  by  the  term  jeux 
d'esprit,  and  which  will  be  noticed  in  their  order,  in  the  progress  ot 
this  work. 

But  what  first  displayed  his  transcendent  powers,  and  "  gave  tho 
world  assurance  of  the  man,"  was  his  "  Loudon,  a  Poem,  in  Imita- 
tion of  the  Third  Satire  of  Juvenal  ;"  which  came  out  in  May  this 
year,  and  burst  forth  with  a  splendour,  the  rays  of  which  will  for 
ever  e»circle  his  name.  Boileau  had  imitated  the  same  satire  with 
great  success,  applying  it  to  Paris  ;  but  an  attentive  comparison  will 
satisfy  every  reader,  that  he  is  much  excelled  by  the  English  Juve- 
nal.' Oldham  had  also  imitated  it,  and  applied  it  to  London  ;  all 
which  performances  concur  to  prove,  that  great  cities,  in  every  age, 
and  in  every  country,  will  furnish  similar  topics  of  satire.  Whether 
Johnson  had  previously  read  Oldham's  imitation,  I  do  not  know  ; 
but  it  is  not  a  little-  remarkable,  that  there  is  scarcely  any  coinci- 
dence found  between  the  two  performances,  though  upon  the  very 

'  It  is  hardly  fair  to  compare  the  poems  in  this  hostile  way  :  Boileau's  was  a  mere  hadina^t, 
complaining  of,  or  laughing  at,  the  personal  dangers  and  inconveniences  of  Paris.     Johnson^ 
v*)ject  was  to  satirise  the  moral  depravity  of  a  great  city.— Ceokbs;. 
102 


^^^t-^-  LONDON',    A    POEM.  103 

same  snbject.     The  only  instances  are,  in  describing  London  as  the 
sink  of  foreign  worthlessness  : 

♦  •'  the  common  shore, 

Where  France  does  all  her  filth  and  ordure  pour." 

Oldham. 


"  The  common  shore  of  Paris  and  of  Eome." 


"No  calling  or  profession  comes  amiss, 
A.  needy  monsieur  can  be  what  he  please. 

"  All  sciences  a  fasting  monsieur  knows." 


JOHNSOK. 

Oldham. 
Johnson. 


The  particulars  which  Oldham  has  collected,  both  as  exhibiting 
the  horrors  of  London,  and  of  the  times,  contrasted  with  better 
days,  are  different  from  those  of  Johnson,  and  in  general  well  chosen, 
and  well  expressed.* 

There  are  in  Oldham's  imitation,  many  prosaic  verses  and  bad 
rhymes,  and  his  poem  sets  out  with  a  strange  inadvertent  blunder : — 

"  Though  much  concern'd  to  leave  my  old  dear  friend, 
I  must,  however,  his  design  commend 
Of  fixing  in  the  country." 

It  is  plain  he  was  not  going  to  leave  his  friend  ;  his  friend  was  going 
to  leave  kim.  A  young  lady  at  once  corrected  this  with  good  criti- 
cal sagacity,  to 

"  Though  much  concern'd  to  lose  my  old  dear  friend." 

There  is  one  passage  in  the  original  better  transfused  by  Oldham 
than  by  Johnson  : — 

"  Nil  habet  infelix  paupertas  durius  in  ae, 
Qudm  quod  ridiculos  homines  fac it. ''^ 

'■  I  own  it  pleased  me  to  find  amongst  them  one  trait  of  the  manners  of  the  age  in  London, 
m  the  last  century,  to  sliield  from  the  sneer  of  English  ridicule,  what  was,  some  timj  atgo,  toe 
common  a  \  ractice  in  my  native  city  of  Edinburgh  ! 

"  If  what  I've  said  can't  from  the  town  affright, 
Consider  other  dangers  of  the  night; 
When  brickbats  are  from  upper  stories  thrown. 
And  emptied  chamherpot^  come  pouring  down 
From  garret  windows." 


J  04  LIFE    OF    JOIINSOJJ.  ^^^ 

which  is  an  exquisite  remark  on  the  galling  meanness  and  contempt 
annexed  to  poverty.     Johnson's  imitation  is, — 

"  Of  all  the  griefs  that  harass  the  distreet, 
Sure  the  most  bitter  is  a  scornful  jest." 

Oldham's,  though  less  elegant,  is  more  just, — 

""  Nothing  in  poverty  so  ill  is  borne, 
As  its  exposing  men  to  grinding  scorn." 

Where  or  in  what  manner  this  poem  was  composed,  I  am  soiiy 
that  I  neglected  to  ascertain  with  precision  from  Johnson's  own 
authority.  He  has  marked  upon  his  corrected  copy  of  the  first  edi- 
tion of  it,  "  Written  in  1138  ;"  and,  as  it  was  published  in  the  month 
of  May  in  that  year,  it  is  evident  that  much  time  was  not  employed 
in  preparing  it  for  the  press.  The  history  of  its  publication  I  am 
enabled  to  give  in  a  very  satisfactory  manner  ;  and  judging  from 
myself,  and  many  of  ray  friends,  I  trust  that  it  will  not  be  uninterest- 
ing to  my  readers. 

We  may  be  certain,  though  it  is  not  expressly  named  in  the  fol- 
lowing letters  to  Mr.  Cave,  in  It 38,  that  they  all  relate  to  it : — 

Letter  4.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

"  Castle  street,  Wednesday  Morning.  [March,  1738.] 
"  Sir, — When  I  took  the  liberty  of  writing  to  you  a  few  days  ago,  I  did  not 
expect  a  repetition  of  this  same  pleasure  so  soon  -,  for  a  pleasure  I  shall  always 
think  it,  to  converse  in  any  manner  with  an  ingenious  and  candid  man:  but 
having  the  enclosed  poem  in  my  hands  to  dispose  of  for  the  benefit  of  the 
author,  (of  whose  abilities  I  shall  say  nothing,  since  I  send  you  his  perform- 
ance,) I  believe  I  could  not  procure  more  advantageous  terms  from  any  person 
than  from  you,  who  have  so  much  distinguished  yourself  by  your  generoua 
encouragement  of  poetry  ;  and  whose  judgment  of  that  art  nothing  but  your 
commendation  of  my  trifle*  can  give  me  any  occasion  to  call  in  question.  I 
ao  not  doubt  but  you  will  look  over  this  poem  with  another  eye,  and  reward  it 
in  a  different  manner  from  a  mercenary  bookseller,  who  counts  the  lines  he  ia 
to  purchase,  and  considers  nothing  but  the  bulk.  I  cannot  help  taking  notice, 
that,  besides  what  the  author  may  hope  for  on  account  of  his  abilities,  he  haa 
likewise  another  claim  to  your  regard,  as  he  lies  at  present  under  very  disad- 

1  His  Ode  "Ad  Urbanum'^  was,  no  doubt,  the  trifle  referred  to. — CROKBat 


*"'••*•  LONDON,    A    POF.M,  105 

vantageous  circumstances  of  fortune.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  you  will  favour 
me  with  a  letter  to-morrow,  that  I  may  know  what  you  can  aftbrd  to  allow  him 
that  he  may  either  part  with  it  to  you,  or  find  out  (which  I  do  not  expect)  some 
other  way  more  to  his  satisfaction. 

■'  I  have  only  to  add,  that  as  I  am  sensible  I  have  transcribed  it  very  coarsely, 
which,  after  having  altered  it,  I  was  obliged  to  do,  I  will,  if  you  please  to  trans- 
mit the  sheets  from  the  press,  correct  it  for  you ;  and  take  the  trouble  of  alter- 
ing any  stroke  of  satire  which  you  may  dislike. 

"  By  exerting  on  this  occasion  your  usual  generosity,  you  will  not  only  en- 
courage  learning,  and  reheve  distress,  but  (though  it  be  in  comparison  of  the 
other  motives  of  very  small  account)  oblige,  in  a  very  sensible  manner,  Sir, 
your  very  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  5.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

"  Monday,  No.  6,  Castle  Street.  [March,  1738.] 
Sir, — I  am  to  return  you  thanks  for  the  present'  you  were  so  kind  as  to  send 
by  me,  and  to  entreat  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  inform  me  by  the  penny-post, 
whether  you  resolve  to  print  the  poem.  If  you  please  to  send  it  me  by  tho 
post,  with  a  note  to  Dodsley,  I  will  go  and  read  the  lines  to  him,  that  we  may 
have  his  consent  to  put  his  name  in  the  title  page.  As  to  the  printing,  if  it  can 
be  set  immediately  about,  I  will  be  so  much  the  author's  friend,  as  not  to  con- 
tent myself  with  mere  solicitations  in  his  favour.  I  propose,  if  my  calculation 
be  near  the  truth,  to  engage  for  the  reimbursement  of  all  that  you  shall  lose 
by  an  impression  of  five  hundred ;  i)rovided,  as  you  very  generously  propose, 
that  the  profit,  if  any,  be  set  aside  for  the  author's  use,  excepting  the  present 
you  made,  which,  if  he  be  a  gainer,  it  is  fit  he  should  repay.  I  beg  that  you 
will  let  one  of  your  servants  write  an  exact  account  of  the  expense  of  such  an 
impression,  and  send  it  with  the  poem,  that  I  may  know  what  I  engage  for.  I 
am  very  sensible,  from  your  generosity  on  this  occasion,  of  your  regard  to 
learning,  even  in  its  unhappiest  state ;  and  cannot  but  think  such  a  temper 
deserving  of  the  gratitude  of  those  who  suffer  so  often  from  a  contrary  dispo- 
sition,    I  am,  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  6.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

[April,  irSS.] 

«'  Sir, — I  waited  on  you  to  take  the  copy  to  Dodsley's  ;  as  I  remember  the 
number  of  lines  which  it  contains,  it  will  be  no  longer  than  Eugenio,"  with  the 
quotations,  which  must  be  subjoined  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  ;  part  of  the 

'  Though  Cave  had  not  taste  enough  to  be  struck  with  the  value  of  the  poem,  he  had,  we 
see,  charity  enough  to  relieve  the  pressing  wants  of  the  author  in  the  shape  of  a  present.— 
Croker. 

»  A  poem,  published  in  17.37,  of  which  see  an  account,  post,  under  April  80,  17V3. 

5* 


106  tiFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^*^' 

beauty  of  the  performance  (if  any  beauty  be  allowed  it)  consisting  in  adapting 
Juvenal's  sentiments  to  modern  facts  and  persons.  It  will,  with  those  addi- 
tions, very  conveniently  make  five  sheets.  And  since  the  expense  will  be  no 
more,  I  shall  contentedly  insure  it,  as  I  mentioned  in  my  last.  If  it  be  not  there- 
fore gone  to  Dodsley's,  I  beg  it  may  be  sent  me  by  the  penny-post,  that  I  may 
have  it  in  the  evening.  I  have  composed  a  Greek  Epigram  to  Eliza,'  and  think 
she  ought  to  be  celebrated  in  as  many  different  languages  as  Lewis  le  Grand. 
Pray  send  me  word  when  you  will  begin  upon  the  poem,  for  it  is  a  long  way 
to  walk.     I  would  leave  my  Epigram,  but  have  not  daylight  to  transcribe  it.    I 

am.  Sir,  yours,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  1.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

[April,  1788.] 

'*  Sir, — I  am  extremely  obliged  by  your  kind  letter,  and  will  not  fail  to 
attend  you  to-morrow  with  Irene,  who  looks  upon  you  as  one  of  her  best 
friends. 

"  I  was  to-day  with  Mr.  Dodsley,  who  declares  very  warmly  in  favour  of  the 
paper  you  sent  him,  which  he  desires  to  have  a  share  in,  it  being,  as  he  says,  a 
creditable  thing  to  be  concerned  in.  I  knew  not  what  answer  to  make  till  I  had 
consulted  you,  nor  what  to  demand  on  the  author's  part ;  but  am  very  willing 
that,  if  you  please,  he  should  have  a  part  in  it,  as  he  will  undoubtedly  be  more 
diligent  to  disperse  and  promote  it.  If  you  can  send  me  word  to-morrow  what 
I  shall  say  to  him,  I  will  settle  matters,  and  bring  the  poem  with  me  for  the 
press,  which,  as  the  town  empties,  we  cannot  be  too  quick  with.  I  am,  Sir, 
yours,  &c. 

*'  Sam.  Johnson." 

To  us  wlio  have  long  known  the  manly  force,  bold  spirit,  and 
masterly  versification  of  this  poem,  it  is  a  matter  of  curiosity  to 
observe  the  diffidence  with  which  its  author  brought  it  forward  into 
public  notice,  while  he  is  so  cautious  as  not  to  avow  it  to  be  his  own 
production  ;  and  with  what  humility  he  offers  to  allow  the  printer 
to  "alter  any  stroke  of  satire  which  he  might  dislike."  That  any 
such  alteration  was  made,  we  do  not  know.  If  we  did,  we  could 
not  but  feel  an  indignant  regret  ;  but  how  painful  is  it  to  see  that  a 
writer  of  such  vigorous  powers  of  mind  was  actually  in  such  dis- 
tress, that  the  small  profit  of  so  short  a  poem,  however  excellent, 
could  yield,  was  courted  as  a  "  relief  1" 

I  The  learned  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter.  This  lady,  of  whom  frequent  mention  will  be  found  1b 
these  Memoir.'',  was  daughter  of  Nicholas  Carter,  D.D.  She  was  born  in  1717,  and  died,  In 
Clarges  Street,  February  19,  1S06,  in  her  eighty-ninth  year. — Malonb, 


^"■^-  LONDON,    A    POEM.  101 

It  has  been  generally  said,  I  know  not  with  ^hat  truth,  that 
Jchnson  offered  his  "  London  "  to  several  booksellers,  none  of  whom 
would  purchase  it.  To  this  circumstance  Mr.  Derrick  *  alludes  in 
the  following  lines  of  Lis  "  Fortune,  a  Rhapsody  :" — 

"  Will  no  kind  patron  Johnson  own  ? 
Shall  Johnson  friendless  range  the  town  ? 
And  every  publisher  refuse 
The  offspring  of  his  happy  muse  ?" 

But  we  have  seen  that  the  worthy,  modest,  and  ingenious  Mr. 
Robert  Dodsley,'  had  taste  enough  to  perceive  its  uncommon  merit, 
and  thought  it  creditable  to  have  a  share  in  it.  The  fact  is,  that, 
at  a  future  conference,  he  bargained  for  the  whole  property  of  it, 
for  which  he  gave  Johnson  ten  guineas,  who  told  me,  "  I  might 
perhaps  have  accepted  of  less,  but  that  Paul  AVliitehead  had  a 
little  before  got  ten  guineas  for  a  poem,  and  I  would  not  take  less 
than  Paul  Whitehead." 

I  may  here  oljserve,  that  Jolmson  appeared  to  me  to  undervalue 
Paul  Whitehead  upon  every  occasion  when  he  was  mentioned,  and, 
in  my  opinion,  did  not  do  him  justice  ;  but  when  it  is  considered 
that  Paul  Whitehead  was  a  member  of  a  riotous  and  profane  club, 
we  may  account  for  Johnson's  having  a  prejudice  against  him. 
Paul  Whitehead  was,  indeed,  unfortunate  in  being  not  only  slighted 
by  Johnson,  but  violently  attacked  by  Churchill,  who  utters  the 
rdlowing  imprecation  : — 

"  May  I  (can  worse  disgrace  on  manhood  fall  ?) 
Be  born  a  Whitehead,  and  baj^tized  a  Paul !" 

'  Samuel  Derrick,  a  native  of  Ireland,  was  born  in  1724.  He  was  apprenticed  to  a  linen- 
-Jraper,  but  abandoned  that  calling,  first,  for  the  stage,  where  he  soon  failed,  and  then  for  tha 
trade  of  literature.  Besides  "  Fortune,  a  Rhapsody  "  (1753),  he  published  a  translation  of 
the  Third  Satire  of  Juvenal,  a  View  of  the  Stage,  an  edition  of  Dryden's  Poems,  and  "Lettere 
written  from  Liverpoo',  Chester,"  etc.  It  will  be  seen  that  Johnson  had  "  a  great  kindness  " 
for  him,  and  that  he  was  Bosweirs  "first  tutor  in  the  ways  of  London."  In  1761,  Derrick 
succeeded  Beau  Nash  as  master  of  the  ceremonies  at  Bath,  where  he  died  in  1769. 

2  Robert  Dodsley  was  born  in  1703.  He  had  been  servant  to  Miss  Lowther,  and  in  1733 
published,  by  subscription,  a  volume  of  poems,  entitled  "The  Muse  in  Livery."  He  after- 
wards wrote  "  The  Toyshop,"  "  The  King  and  Miller  of  Mansfield,"  "  Cleone,  a  Tragedy," 
•'  The  Economy  of  Human  Life,"  and  other  pieces.  In  1758  he  projected,  in  concert  with 
Mr.  Burke,  the  Annual  Register,  and  in  1759  he  was  succeeded  in  his  liusiness  as  a  bookseller 
&y  his  brother  James      R.  Dodsley  died  in  1764. 


108  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  1^38 

yet  I  slmll  never  be  persuaded  to  think  meanly  of  the  author  of  so 
brilliant  and  pointed  a  satire  as  "  Manners."  ' 

Johnson's  "  London  "  was  published  in  May,  1*138  ;^  and  it  is 
remarkable,  that  it  came  out  on  the  saine  morning  with  Pope's 
satire,  entitled  "  1138  :"  so  that  England  had  at  once  its  Juvenal 
and  Horace  as  poetical  monitors.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Douglas,  now 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  some  obliging  com- 
munications, was  then  a  student  at  Oxford,  and  remembers  well  the 
effect  which  "  Loudon"  produced.  Everybody  was  delighted  with 
it  ;  and  there  being  no  name  to  it,  the  first  buzz  of  the  literary  cir- 
cles was,  "  Here  is  an  unknown  poet,  greater  even  than  Pope." 
And  it  is  recorded  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  that  year,  p.  269, 
that  it  "  got  to  a  second  edition  in  the  course  of  a  week." 

'  "  Paul  Whitehead,  a  small  jioet,  was  summoned  before  the  Lords  for  a  poem  called 
'Manners,' together  with  Dodsley,  his  publisher.  Whitehead,  who  hung  loose  upon  society, 
skulked  and  escaped;  but  Dodsley's  shop  and  family  made  his  appearance  necessary.  He 
was,  however,  soon  dismissed  ;  and  the  whole  process  was  probably  intended  rather  to  inti- 
midate Pope  than  to  punish  Whitehead." — Johnson,  Life  of  Pope. 

2  Sir  Jolic  3awkins,  p.  86,  tells  us,  "  The  event  (Savage's  retirement)  is  anted'itcd  in  the 
poem  of '  London  ;'  but  in  every  particular,  except  the  difference  of  a  year,  what  is  there 
said  of  the  departure  of  Thales  must  be  understood  of  Savage,  and  looked  upon  as  true  his- 
tory."  This  conjecture  is,  I  believe,  entirely  gi-oundless.  I  have  been  assured  that  Johnson 
said  he  was  not  so  much  as  acquainted  with  Savage  when  he  wrote  his  "London."  If  the 
departure  mentioned  in  it  was  tlie  departure  of  Savage,  the  event  was  not  antedated  but 
foreseen  ;  for  "  London  "  was  published  in  May,  173S,  and  Savage  did  not  set  out  for  Wales 
till  July,  1739.  However  well  Johnson  could  defend  the  credibility  of  second  sight,  he  did 
not  pretend  that  he  himself  was  possessed  of  that  faculty.- — Boswell. 

Notwithstanding  Mr.  Boswell's  proofs,  and  Dr.  Johnson's  own  assertion,  the  identity  of 
Savage  and  Thales  has  been  repeated  by  all  the  biographers,  and  has  obtained  general  vogue. 
It  may,  therefore,  be  worth  while  to  add,  that  Johnson's  residence  at  Greenwich  (which,  as  it 
was  the  scene  oftiisjancied  parting  from  Thales,  is  currently  taken  to  have  been  that  of  his 
real  separation  from  Savage),  occurred  two  years  before  the  latter  event ;  and  at  that  time 
it  does  not  appear  that  Johnson  was  so  much  as  acquainted  with  Savage,  or  even  with  Cave, 
at  whose  house  he  first  met  Savage  :  again,  Johnson  distinctly  tells  us,  in  his  Life  of  Savage, 
that  the  latter  took  his  departure  for  Wales,  not  by  embarking  at  Greenwich,  but  by  the  Bris- 
tol stage-coach  ;  and,  finally  and  decisively,  Johnson,  if  Thales  had  been  Savage,  could 
never  have  admitted  into  his  poem  two  lines  which  seem  to  point  so  forcibly  at  the  drunken 
fray,  when  Savage  stabbed  a  Mr.  Sinclair,  for  which  he  was  convicted  ol  murder : — 
"  Some  frolic  drunkard,  reeling  from  a  feast, 
Provokes  a  broil,  and  stabs  you  in  a  jest." 
There  is,  certainly,  a  curious  coincidence  between  some  points  of  the  characters  of  Thales  and 
Savage  ;   but  it  seems  equally  certain  that  the  coincidence  was  fortuitous.     Mr.  Murphy 
endeavors  to  reconcile  the  difficulties  by  supposing  that  Savage's  retirement  was  in  contem- 
plation eighteen  months  before  it  was  carried  into  effect :  but  even  if  this  were  true  (which 
may  well  be  doubted),  it  would  not  alter  the  facts — that  "  London  "  was  written  before  John- 
son knew  Savage  ;  and  that  one  of  the  severest  strokes  in  the  Satiie  touched  Savage's  sorest 
point. — Crokeb. 


*TAT,  8d  LONDON,    A    /-OEXr — POPE.  109 

One  of  the  warmest  patrons  of  this  poem  ou  its  first  appearance 
was  General  Oglethorpe,  whose  "strong  benevolence  of  soul"  was 
unabated  during  the  course  of  a  very  long  life  ;  though  it  is  painffti 
to  think,  that  he  had  but  too  much  reason  to  become  cold  and  callous, 
and  discontented  with  the  world,  from  the  neglect  which  he  experi- 
enced of  his  pubhc  and  private  worth,  by  those  in  whose  power  it 
was  to  gratify  so  gallant  a  veteran  with  marks  of  distinction.  This 
extraordinary  person  was  as  remarkable  for  his  learning  and  taste, 
as  for  his  other  eminent  qualities  ;  and  no  man  was  more  prompt, 
active,  and  generous,  in  encouraging  merit.  I  have  heard  Johnstni 
gratefully  acknowledge,  in  his  presence,  the  kind  and  effectual  sup- 
port which  he  gave  to  his  "London,"  though  unacquainted  with  its 
author.  , 

Pope,  who  then  filled  the  poetical  throne  without  a  rival,  it  may 
reasonably  be  presumed,  must  have  been  particularly  struck  by  the 
sudden  appearance  of  such  a  poet  ;  and  to  his  credit  let  it  be  remem- 
bered, that  his  feelings  and  conduct  on  the  occasion  were  candid  and 
liberal.  He  requested  Mr.  Richardson,*  son  of  the  painter,  to 
endeavour  to  find  out  who  this  new  author  was.  Mr.  Ricliardsoii, 
after  some  enquiry,  having  informed  him  that  he  had  discovered 
only  that  his  name  was  Johnson,  and  that  he  was  some  obscure 
man,  Pope  said,  "  He  will  soon  be  deterre.^'  *  We  shall  presently 
see,  from  a  note  written  by  Pope,  that  he  was  himself  afterwards 
more  successful  in  his  enquiries  than  his  friend. 

That  in  this  justly-celebrated  poem  may  be  found  a  few  rhymes 
which  the  critical  precision  of  Englisli  prosody  at  this  day  would 
disallow  cannot  be  denied  ;  but  with  this  small  imperfection,  which 
in  the  general  blaze  of  its  excellence  is  not  perceived,  till  the  mind 
has  subsided  into  cool  attention,  it  is,  undoubtedly,  one  of  tiie  no- 
blest productions  in  our  languags,  both  for  sentiment  and  cxpressiou. 
The  nation  was  then  in  that   ferment   against  the  court  iind  tlie 

'  There  were  three  Richardsons  known  at  this  period  in  the  literary  world  :  1st,  .Johnson  thfl 
elder,  usually  called  the  Painter,  though  he  was  an  author  as  well  as  a  painter ;  he  died  in 
1745,  age<l  80  :  2d,  .Tonathan  the  younger,  who  is  the  person  mentioned  in  the  text,  who  also 
painted,  though  not  as  a  profession,  and  who  published  several  works  ;  he  died  in  1771,  aged 
77  :  3d.  Samuel,  the  author  of  the  celebrated  novels.  He  was  by  trade  a  printer,  and  b'ld 
the  good  sense  tp  continue,  during  the  height  of  his  fame,  his  attention  to  his  business.  n« 
died  in  1701,  aged  72.— Oroker. 

'  Blr  Josh\ia  Keynolds,  from  the  inforinalion  of  the  younger  Richardson. 


no  LIFE    OF  JOHNSON.  ^^88 

ministry,  which  some  years  after  ended  iu  the  downfall  of  Sir  Robert 
Walpole  ;  and  it  has  been  said,  that  Tories  are  Whigs  when  out  of 
place,  and  Whigs  Tories  when  in  place  ;  so,  as  a  Whig  administra* 
tion  ruled  with  what  force  it  could,  a  Tory  opposition  had  all  the 
animation  and  all  the  eloquence  of  resistance  to  power,  aided  by  the 
common  topics  of  patriotism,  liberty,  and  independence  !  Accord- 
ingly, we  find  in  Johnson's  "London"  the  most  spirited  invectives 
against  tyranny  and  oppression,  the  warmest  predilection  for  his  own 
'country,  and  the  purest  love  of  virtue  ;  interspersed  with  traits  of 
his  own  particular  character  and  situation,  not  omitting  his  preju- 
dices as  a  "  true-born  Englishman," '  not  only  against  foreign  coup- 
tries,  but  against  Ireland  and  Scotland.  On  some  of  these  topics  I 
shall  quote  a  few  passages  : 

"  The  cheated  nation's  happy  fav'rites  see  ; 
Mark  whom  the  great  caress,  who  frown  on  me." 

"  Has  heaven  reserved,  in  pity  to  the  poor, 
No  pathless  waste,  or  undiscover'd  shore  ? 
No  secret  island  in  the  boundless  main  ? 
No  peaceful  desert  yet  unclaim'd  by  Spain  ? 
Quick  let  us  rise,  the  happy  seats  explore, 
And  bear  Oppression's  insolence  no  more." 

"  How,  when  competitors  like  these  contend, 
Can  surly  Virtue  hope  to  find  a  friend?" 

"  This  mournful  truth  is  everywhere  confess'd, 
Slow  rises  worth,  by  poverty  depress'd!" 

We  may  easily  conceive  with  what  feeling  a  great  mind  like  his, 
cramped  and  galled  by  narrow  circumstances,  uttered  this  last  line, 
which  he  marked  by  capitals.  ^  The  whole  of  the  poem  is  eminently 
excellent,  and  there  are  in  it  such  proofs  of  a  knowledge  of  the  world, 
and  of  a  mature  acquaintance  with  life,  as  cannot  be  contemplated 
without  wonder,  when  we  consider  that  he  was  then  only  in  his  twenty- 
ninth  year,  and  had  yet  been  so  little  in  the  "  busy  haunts  of  men."  * 

1  It  is,  however,  remarkable,  that  he  uses  the  epithet,  which  undoubtedly,  since  the  UDi()n 
tetween  England  and  Scotland,  ought  to  denominate  the  natives  of  both  parts  of  our  island: 
"Was  early  taught  a  Briton's  rights  to  prize." 
*  What  follows  will  Show  that  Boswell  himself  was  of  opinion  that  "  London  "  was  dictatell 


^TAT.n.  LONDOxV,    A    POEM.  Ill 

Yet,  while  we  admire  the  poetical  excellence  of  this  poem,  can- 
dor obliges  us  to  allow,  that  the  flame  of  patriotism  and  zeal  for 
popular  resistance  with  which  it  is  fraught  had  no  just  cause. 
There  was,  in  truth,  no  "oppression;" '  the  "nation"  was  not 
"  cheated."  Sir  Robert  Walpole  was  a  wise  and  a  benevolent 
minister,  who  thoQght  that  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  a  com- 
mercial country  like  ours  would  be  best  promoted  by  peace,  which 
he  accordingly  maintained  with  credit,  during  a  very  long  period. 
Johnson  himself  afterwards  [Oct.  21,  17T3]  honestly  acknowledged 
the  merit  of  Walpole,  whom  he  called  "a  fixed  star;"  while  he 
characterised  his  opponent,  Pitt,  as  a  "  meteor."  But  Johnson's 
juvenile  poem  was  naturally  impregnated  with  the  fire  of  opposition, 
and  upon  every  account  was  universally  admired 

Though  thus  elevated  into  fame,  and  conscious  )f  uncommon 
powers,  he  had  not  that  bustling  confidence,  or,  I  may  rather  say, 
that  animated  ambition,  which  one  might  have  supposed  would  have 
urged  him  to  endeavour  at  rising  in  life.  But  such  was  his  inflexible 
dignity  of  character,  that  he  could  not  stoop  to  court  the  great ; 
without  which,  hardly  any  man  has  made  his  way  to  a  high  station. 
He  could  not  expect  to  produce  many  such  works  as  his  "  London,'^ 
and  he  felt  the  hardships  of  writing  for  bread;  he  was  therefore 
willina:  to  resume  the  office  of  a  schoolmaster,  so  as  to  have  a  sure 
though  moderate,  income  for  his  life;  and  an  ofi"er  being  made  to 
him  of  the  mastership  of  a  school,  provided  he  could  obtain  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  Dr.  Adams  was  applied  to,  by  a  common 

rather  by  youthful  feeling,  inflamed  by  the  political  frenzy  of  the  times,  than  by  any  "  know- 
ledge of  the  world,"  or  any  "  mature  acquaintance  with  life."  Nor  is  it  the  least  remarkable 
of  the  inconsistencies  between  Johnson's  early  precepts  and  subsequent  practice,  that  he  who 
was,  in  all  his  latter  age,  the  most  constant  and  enthusiastic  admirer  of  London,  should  have 
begun  life  with  this  vigorous  and  bitter  invective  against  it.  The  truth  is,  he  was  now  writing 
for  bread,  cared  comparatively  little  about  the  real  merits  or  defects  of  the  minister  or  the 
metropolis,  and  only  thought  how  best  to  make  his  poem  sell. — Croker, 

-  This  seems  to  be  an  erroneous  and  mischievous  assertion.  If  Mr.  Boswell,  by  stoopiivg 
to  court  the  great,  means  base  flatterits  and  unworthy  compliances,  then  it  may  be  safely 
asserted  that  such  arts  (whatever  small  succes8,they  may  have  had)  are  not  those  by  which 
men  have  risen  to  high  stations.  Look  at  the  instances  of  elevation  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Bos- 
well's  own  work— Lord  Chatham,  Lord  Mansfield,  Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Hamilton,  Lord  Loughbo- 
rough, Lord  Thurlow,  Lord  Stowell,  and  so  many  dignitaries  of  the  law  and  the  church,  in 
whose  society  Dr.  Johnson  passed  his  later  days — with  what  can  thei/  be  charged  which  would 
have  disgraced  Johnson  ?  Boswell,  it  may  be  suspected,  wrote  this  under  some  little  personal 
disappointment  in  his  own  courtship  of  the  great,  which  he  more  than  once  hints  at.  John- 
ipa's  opuuons  on  this  point  will  be  found  under  Feb.  1776,  and  Sept.  17T7.— Ckoker. 


112  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON, 


178S. 


friend,  to  know  whether  that  could  be  granted  him  as  a  favour  from 
the  University  of  Oxford.  But  though  he  had  made  such  a  figure 
in  the  literary  world,  it  was  then  thought  too  great  a  favour  to  be 
asked. 

Pope,  without  any  knowledge  of  him  but  from  his  "  London," 
recommended  him  to  Earl  Gower,  who  endeavoured  to  procure  for 
him  a  degree  from  Dublin,  by  the  following  letter  to  a  friend  of 
Dean  Swift : 

Letter  8.  FROM  EARL  GOWER. 

"  Trentham,  Aug.  1, 1739. 

«'  SiR^ — Mr.  Samuel  Johnson  (.author  of  London,  a  satire,  and  some  other 
poetical  pieces)  is  a  native  of  this  county,  and  much  respected  by  some  worthy 
gentlemen  in  his  neighbourhood,  who  are  trustees  of  a  charity  school  now 
vacant ;  the  certain  salary  is  sixty  pounds  a  year,  of  which  they  are  desirous 
to  make  him  master ;  but,'  unfortunately,  he  is  not  capable  of  receiving  their 
Dounty,  which  would  make  him  liujipy  for  life,  by  not  being  a  master  of  arts  ; 
which,  by  the  statutes  of  this  school,  the  master  of  it  must  be. 

"  Now  these  gentlemen  do  me  the  honour  to  think  that  I  havp  interest  enough 
in  you,  to  prevail  upon  you  to  write  to  Dean  Swift,  to  persuade  the  Uuiversity  of 
Dublin  to  send  a  diploma  to  me,  constituting  this  poor  man  master  of  arts  in 
their  University.  They  highly  extol  the  man's  learning  and  probity  ;  and  will 
not  be  persuaded,  that  the  University  will  make  any  difficulty  of  conferring 
such  a  favour  upon  a  stranger,  if  he  is  recommended  by  the  Dean.  They  say, 
he  is  not  afraid  of  the  strictest  examination,  though  he  is  of  so  long  a  journey; 
and  will  venture  it,  if  the  Dean  thinks  it  necessary  ;  choosing  rather  to  die 
upon  the  road,  than  be  starved  to  death  in  translating  for  booksellers  ;  which 
has  been  his  only  subsistence  for  some  time  past. 

"  I  fear  there  is  more  difficulty  in  this  affair  than  those  good-natured  gentle- 
men apprehend ;  especially  as  their  election  cannot  be  delayed  longer  than 
the  11th  of  next  month.  If  you  see.  this  matter  in  the  same  light  that  it 
appears  to  me,  I  hope  you  will  burn  this,  and  pardon  me  for  giving  you  so 
much  trouble  about  an  impracticable  thing;  but,  if  you  think  there  is  a  prob- 
ability of  obtaining  the  favour  asked,  I  am  sure  your  humanity,  and  propensity 
to  relieve  merit  in  distress,  will  incline  you  to  serve  the  poor  man,  without  my 
adding  any  more  to  the  trouble  I  have  already  given  you,  than  assuring  you 
that  I  am,  with  great  truth,  sir,  your  faithful  servant, 

"  Gower." 

It  was,  perhaps,  no  small  disappointment  to  Johnson  that  this 
respectable  application  had  not  the  desired  effect;  yet  how  much 
reason  has  there  been,  both  for  himself  and  his  country,  to  rejoice 


^'i'-**-  TRANSLATION    OF    FATHER    PAUL.  113 

that  it  did  not  succeed,  as  he  might  probably  have  wasted  iu 
obscurity  those  hours  in  which  he  afterwards  produced  his  incom- 
parable works. 

About  this  time  he  made  one  other  effort  to  emancipate  himself 
from  the  drudgery  of  authorship.  He  applied  to  Dr.  Adams,  to 
consult  Dr.  Smalbroke '  of  the  Commons,  whether  a  person  might 
be  permitted  to  practise  as  an  advocate  there,  without  a  doctor's 
degr-ee  in  civil  law.  "  I  am,"  said  he,  "  a  total  stranger  to  these 
studies;  but  whatever  is  a  profession,  and  maintains  numbers,  must 
be  within  the  reach  of  common  abilities,  and  some  degree  of  indus- 
try." Dr.  Adams  was  much  pleased  with  Johnson's  design  to 
employ  his  talents  in  that  manner,  being  confident  he  would  have 
attained  to  great  eminence.  And,  indeed,  I  cannot  conceive  a  man 
better  qualified  to  make  a  distinguished  figure  as  a  lawyer;  for  he 
would  have  brought  to  his  profession  a  rich  store  of  various  know- 
ledge, an  uncommon  acuteness,  and  a  command  of  language,  in 
which  few  could  have  equalled,  and  none  have  surpassed  him.  He 
who  could  display  eloquence  and  wit  iu  defence  of  the  decision  of 
the  House  of  Commons  upon  Mr.  Wilkes's  election  for  Middlesex, 
and  of  the  unconstitutional  taxation  of  our  fellow-subjects  in 
America,  must  have  been  a  powerful  advocate  in  any  cause.  But 
here,  also,  the  want  of  a  degree  was  an  insurmountable  bar. 

He  was,  therefore,  under  the  necessity  of  persevering  in  that 
course,  into  which  he  Jiad  been  forced  ;  and  we  find  that  his  propo- 
sal from  Greenwich  to  Mr.  Cave,  for  a  translation  of  Father  Paul 
Sarpi's  History,  was  accepted.* 

Some  sheets  of  this  translation  were  printed  off,  but  the  design 
was  dropt  :  for  it  happened  oddly  enough,  that  another  person  of 
the  name  of  Samuel  Johnson,  librarian  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields, 

'  Richard  Smalbroke,  LL.D.,  second  son  of  Bishop  Smalbroke,  succeeded  his  brot!iei 
Thomas  as  cliancellor  of  the  diocese  of  Lichfield  in  1T7B,  and  died  the  senior  member  of  the 
College  of  Advocates.  The  long  connection  of  the  Smalbroke  family  with  Lichfield,  probabl.v 
pointed  him  out  to  Johnson  as  a  person  able  and  willing  to  advise  him. — Ckokf.r. 

^  In  the  Weekly  Miscellany,  Oct.  21,  1738,  there  appeared  the  following  advertisement : — 
"  Just  published.  Proposals  for  printing  the  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  translated 
from  the  Italian  of  Father  Paul  Sarpi ;  with  the  Author's  Life,  and  Notes  theological,  histo- 
rical, and  critical,  from  the  French  edition  of  Dr.  Le  Courajer.  To  which  are  added,  Obser- 
vations on  the  History,  and  Notes  and  Illustrations  from  various  Authors,  both  printed  and 
manuscript.  By  S.  Johnson.  1.  The  work  will  consist  of  two  hundred  sheets,  and  be  tw« 
volumes  in  quarto,  printed  on  good  paper  and  letter.    2,  The  price  will  be  ISa.  each  volume, 


114  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "''8* 

and  curate  of  that  parish,  engaged  in  the  same  undertaking  aiJ 
was  patronized  by  the  clergy,  particularly  by  Dr.  Pearce,  afterv\'a\u-J 
Bishop  of  Rochester.  Several  light  skirmisiies  passed  between  the 
rival  translators,  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day  ;  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  they  destroyed  each  other,  for  neither  of  them  went 
on  with  the  work.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  the  able  per- 
formance *  of  that  celebrated  genius  Fra  Paola,  lost  the  advantage 
of  being  incorporated  into  British  literature  by  the  masterly  hand 
of  Johnson. 

I  have  in  my  possession,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  John  Nichols,  a 
paper  in  Johnson's  handwriting,  entitled  "  Account  between  Mr. 
Edward  Cave  and  Samuel  Johnson,  in  relation  to  a  version  of 
Father  Paul,  etc.,  begun  August  the  2d,  1^38  ;"  by  which  it  appears, 
that  from  that  day  to  the  21st  of  April,  1*739,  Johnson  received  for 
this  work  £49  ^s.  in  sums  of  one,  two,  three,  and  sometimes  four 
guineas  at  a  time,  most  frequently  two.  And  it  is  curious  to 
observe  the  minute  and  scrupulous  accuracy  with  which  Johnson 
had  pasted  upon  it  a  slip  of  paper,  which  he  has  entitled  "  Small 
account,"  and  which  contains  one  article,  "  Sept.  9th,  Mr.  Cave  laid 
down  25.  M."  There  is  subjoined  to  this  account,  a  list  of  some 
subscribers  to  the  work,  partly  in  Johnson's  handwriting,  partly  in 
that  of  another  person  ;  and  there  follows  a  leaf  or  two  on  which 
are  written  a  number  of  characters  which  have  the  appearance  of  a 
short-hand,  which,  perhaps,  Johnson  was- then  trying  to  learn. 

Letter  y.  TO   MR.   CAVE. 

"  Wednesday.    [Aug.  or  Sept.,  1788.J 

"  Sir, — I  did  not  care  to  detain  your  servant  while  I  wrote  an  answer  to 

your  letter,  in  which  you  seem  to  insinuate  that  I  had  promised  more   than  I 

am  ready  to  perform.     If  I  have  raised  your  expectations  by  anything  that 

may  have  escaped  my  memory,  I  am  sorry  ;  and  if  you  remind  me  of  it,  shall 

to  be  paid,  half  a  guinea  at  the  delivery  of  the  first  TOlume,  and  the  rest  at  the  delivery  of 
the  second  volume  in  sheets.  Two-pence  to  be  abated  for  every  sheet  less  than  two  hundred. 
It  may  be  had  on  a  large  paper,  in  three  volumes,  at  the  price  of  three  guineas ;  one  to  be 
paid  at  the  time  of  subscribing,  another  at  the  delivery  of  the  first,  and  the  rest  at  tha 
delivery  of  the  other  volumes.  The  work  is  now  in  the  press,  and  will  be  diligently  pro- 
secuted. Subscriptions  are  taken  in  by  Mr.  Dodsley  in  Pall  Mall,  Mr.  Rivington  in  St  Paul's 
Church  Yard,  by  E.  Cave  at  St.  John's  Gate,  and  the  Translator,  at  No.  6  in  Castle  Street,  by 
Cavendish  Square." 

'    Johnscn,  in  his  Life  of  Saapi,  describes  the  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  as  ■'  a  work 
unefjuallcd  for  the  judicious  dihposition  of  the  matter,  and  artful  texture  of  the  narrsitioa— 


ffiTAT.  29.  LETTERS    TO    MR.    CAVE.  115 

thank  you  foi  the  favour.  If  I  made  fewer  alterations  than  usual  in  the 
Debates,  it  was  only  because  there  appeared,  and  still  appears  to  be,  less  need 
of  altPA-ition.  The  verses  to  Lady  Fircbrace  '  may  be  had  when  you  please, 
for  you  know  that  such  a  subject  neither  deserves  much  thought  nor  requires  it. 

"■  The  Chinese  Stories  "  may  be  had  folded  down  when  you  please  to  send, 
m  which  I  do  not  recollect  that  you  desired  any  alterations  to  be  made. 

"  An  answer  to  another  query  I  am  very  willing  to  write,  and  had  consulted 
with  you  about  it  last  night,  if  there  had  been  time  ;  for  I  think  it  the  most 
proper  way  of  inviting  such  a  correspondence  as  may  be  an  advantage  to  tl  e 
paper,  not  a  load  upon  it. 

"  As  to  the  Prize  Verses,  a  backwardness  to  determine  their  degrees  of 
merit  is  not  peculiar  to  me.  You  may,  if  you  please,  still  have  what  I  can  say  ; 
but  I  shall  engage  with  little  spirit  in  an  affair,  which  I  shall  hardhj  end  to  my 
own  satisfaction,  and  certainly  not  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  parties  concerned." 

"  As  to  Father  Paul,  I  have  not  yet  been  just  to  my  proposal,  but  have  met 
with  impediments,  which,  I  hope,  are  now  at  an  end  ;  and  if  you  find  the  pro- 
gress hereafter  not  such  as  you  have  a  right  to  expect,  you  can  easily  stimulate 
a.  negligent  translator. 

"  If  any  or  all  of  these  have  contributed  to  your  discontent,  I  will  endeavour 

to  reiBOve  it ;  and  desire  you  to  propose  the  question  to  which  you  wish  for 

an  answer.     I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."  * 

Letter  10.  TO   MR.  CAVE. 

[Sept.  1738.J 
"Sir, — I  am  pretty  much  of  your  opinion,  that  the  Commentary  cannot  be 
prosecuted  with  any  appearance  of  success;  for  as  the  names  of  the  authors 
concerned  are  of  more  weight  in  the  performance  than  its  own  intrinsic  merit, 
the  public  will  be  soon  satisfied  with  it.  And  I  think  the  Exanien  should  be 
puehed  forward  with  the  utmost  expedition.    Thus,  '  This  day,  etc.,  an  Examen 

commended  by  Dr.  Burnet  as  the  completest  model  of  historical  writing — and  celebrated  by 
Mr.  Wotton  as  equivalent  to  any  production  of  antiquity  ;  in  which  the  reader  finds  liberty 
without  licentiousness,  piety  without  hypocrisy,  freedom  of  speech  without  neglect  of  decency, 
severity  without  rigour,  and  extensive  learning  without  ostentation." 

1  They  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  Sept.,  1788,  with  this  title  :— "  Verses  to 
Lady  Firebrace,  at  Bury  Assizes."  It  seems  quite  unintelligible  how  these  six  silly  lines 
should  be  the  production  of  Johnson,  and  made  to  the  order  (to  use  the  tradesman's  phrase) 
of  Cave.  These  considerations,  and  some  stupid  lines  in  praise  of  Suffolk  beauties,  in  the 
same  volume,  lead  to  a  conjecture  that  Cave  may  have  sent  some  verses  of  another  corre- 

*  spondent,  on  Lady  Firebrace,  to  Johnson  to  correct  or  curtail.  It  is  next  to  impossible  that 
they  could  be  originally  Johnson's  own  ;  and  it  may  also  be  observed,  that  Boswell  does  not 
afterwards  mention  them  in  his  hst  of  Johnson's  contributions  to  the  magazine. — Cuukkr. 

''  Du  Halde's  Description  of  China  was  then  publishing  by  Mr.  Cave,  in  weekly  numbers, 
whence  Johnson  was  to  select  pieces  for  the  embellishment  of  the  magazine. — Nichols. 

2  The  premium  of  forty  pounds  proposed  for  the  best  poem  on  the  Divine  Attributes  Ss  here 
alluded  to. — Nichols 

«   The  original  of  this  letter  is  in  Mr.  TJpcott's  possession.    1835. 


118  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^**' 

of  Mr.  Pope's  Essay,  etc.,  containing  a  succinct  Account  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Mr.  Leibnitz  on  the  System  of  the  Fatalists,  with  a  Confutation  of  their  Opinions 
and  an  Illustration  of  the  Doctrine  of  Free  Will '  (with  what  else  you  >hink 
proper). 

"  It  will,  above  all,  be  necessary  to  take  notice,  that  it  is  a  thing  distinct  from 
the  Commentary. 

"I  was  so  far  from  imagining  they  stood  still,'  that  I  conceived  them  to 
have  a  good  deal  before-hand,  and  therefore  was  less  anxious  in  providing 
then.  more.  But  if  ever  they  stand  still  on  my.^ccount,  it  must,  doubtlesf,  be 
charged  to  me  ;  and  whatever  else  shall  be  reasonable,  I  shall  not  oppose ;  but 
beg  a  suspense  of  judgment  till  morning,  when  I  must  entreat  you  to  send  me 
a  dozen  proposals,  and  you  shall  then  have  copy  to  spare.  I  am.  Sir,  yours, 
impransus,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  Pray  muster  up  the  proposals  if  you  can,  or  let  the  boy  recall  them  from 
the  booksellers." 

But  although  he  corresponded  with  Mr.  Cave  concerning  a  trans- 
lation of  Crousaz's  Examen  of  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  and  gave  advice 
as  one  anxious  for  its  success,  I  was  long  ago  convinced  by  a 
perusal  of  the  Preface,  that  this  translation  was  erroneously 
ascribed  to  him  ;  and  I  found  this  point  ascertained  beyond  all 
doubt,  by  the  following  article  in  Dr.  Birch's  manuscripts  in  the 
British  Museum  : — 

"Elisaj  Carterae,  S.  P.  D.  Thomas  Birch.  Versionem  tuani  Examinis  Crou- 
saziani  jam  perlegi.  Sumniam  styli  et  elegantiam,  et  in  re  difficillima  proprie- 
tatem,  admiratus.     Dabam  Xovenib.  27°  1738." 

Indeed,  Mrs.  Carter  has  lately  acknowledged  to  Mr.  Seward,  that 
she  was  the  translator  of  the  "  Examen." 

It  is  remarkable,  that  Johnson's  last  quoted  letter  to  Mr.  Cave 
concludes  with  a  fair  confession  that  he  had  not  a  dinner  ;  and  it  is 
no  less  remarkable,  that  though  in  this  state  of  want  himself,  his 
benevolent  heart  was  not  insensible  to  the  necessities  of  an  humble 
labourer  in  literature,  as  appears  from  the  very  next  letter  : — 

Letter  11.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

[No  date.] 
"Dear  Sir, — You  remember  I  have  formerly  talked  with  you  about  a  Mill- 

'  The  ccmpositors  in  Mr.  Cave's  printing-office,  who  appear  by  this  letter  to  have  IheD 
j(.TJf(;d  for  copy. — Nichols. 


^lAT.fiS.  gentleman's  magazine.  lit 

tary  Dictionary.  The  eldest  Mr.  Macbean,'  who  was  with  Mr.  Chambers,  haa 
very  good  materials  for  such  a  work,  which  I  have  seen,  and  will  do  it  at  a 
very  low  rate.*  I  think  the  terms  of  war  and  navigation  might  be  comprised, 
with  good  explanations  in  one  8vo.  pica,  which  he  is  willing  to  do  for  twelve 
shillings  a  sheet,  to  be  made  up  a  guinea  at  the  second  impression.  If  you 
think  on  it,  I  will  wait  on  you  with  him.     I  am,  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

"Pray  lend  me  Topsel  on  Animals." 

1  must  not  omit  to  mention,  that  this  Mr.  Macbean  was  a  native 
of  Scotland. 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  this  year,  Johnson  gave  a  Life 
of  Father  Paul  ;  *  and  he  wrote  the  Preface  to  the  volume,f  which, 
though  prefixed  to  it  when  bound,  is  always  published  with  the 
appendix,  and  is  therefore  the  last  composition  belonging  to  it. 
The  ability  and  nice  adaptation  with  which  he  could  draw  up  a  pre- 
fatory address,  was  one  of  his  peculiar  excellencies. 

In  appears,  too,  that  he  payed  a  friendly  attention  to  Mrs.  Eliza- 
beth Carter  ;  for  in  a  letter  from  Mr.  Cave  to  Dr.  Birch,  November 
28th,  this  year,  I  find  "  Mr.  Johnson  advises  Miss  C.  to  undertake 
a  translation  of  Boethius  de  Cons,  because  there  is  prose  and  verse, 
and  to  put  her  name  to  it  when  published."  This  advice  was  not 
followed  ;  probably  from  an  apprehension  that  the  work  was  not 
sufficiently  popular  for  an  extensive  sale.  How  well  Johnson  him- 
self could  have  executed  a  translation  of  this  philosophical  poet,  we 
may  judge  from  the  following  specimen  which  he  has  given  in  the 
Rambler  {Motto  to  No.  1  )  :— 

"0  qui  perpetua  mundum  ratione  gubernas 

Terrarum  caslique  sator ! 

Disjice  terrense  nebulas  et  pondera  molis, 
Atque  tuo  splendore  mica !     Tu  namque  serenum, 
Tu  requies  tranquilla  piis.     Te  cernere  finis, 
Principium,  vector,  dux,  semita,  terminus,  idem." 

1  Alexander  Macbean  published,  in  1773,  a  Dictionary  of  Ancient  Geography,  to  which 
Johnscn  furnished  the  preface.  In  1781,  he  being  then  oppressed  by  age  and  poverty,  the 
Doctor  obtained  .'ar  him,  through  the  interest  of  Lord  Thurlow,  an  admission  into  the 
Charier  House.  He  died  in  June,  1784.  "  He  was,"  says  Johnson,  (post,  June  26, 1754,"' 
"  one  of  those  who,  as  Swift  says,  stood  as  a  screen  between  ne  and  death." 

*  This  book  was  published. 


119  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^80 

*'  0  Thou  whose  power  o'er  moving  worlds  presides, 
Whose  voice  created,  and  whose  wisdom  guides, 
On  darkling  man  in  pure  effulgence  shine, 
And  cheer  the  clouded  miud  with  light  divine. 
'Tis  thine  alone  to  calm  the  pious  breast, 
With  silent  confidence  and  holy  rest ; 
From  thee,  great  God !  we  spring,  to  thee  we  tend, 
Path,  motive,  guide,  original,  and  end!" 

In  1739,'  beside  the  assistance  which  he  gave  to  the  Parhamen- 
tary  Debates,  his  writings  in  the  Grentleman's  Magazine  were  "  The 
Life  of  Boerhaave,"*  in  which  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  he  disco- 
vers that  love  of  chemistry  wliich  never  forsook  him  ;  "  An  Appeal 
to  the  Pul)lic  in  Behalf  of  the  Editor -/'f  "An  Address  to  the 
Reader  f'f  "  An  Epigram  both  in  Greek  and  Latin  to  Eliza,"* 
and  also  English  Verses  ^  to  her  ; '  and  "  A  Greek  Epigram  to  Dr. 

■'  Johnson  addressed  to  Mrs.  Carter,  in  the  Magazine  for  April,  173S  (not  1739),  an  epigram 
Co  Eliza*  both  in  Greek  and  Latin  ;  and  probably,  also,  the  following  Latin  epigram  in  that 
for  July : 

"  Elysios  Popi  dum  ludit  laita  per  hortos, 
En  avida  lauros  carpit  Elisa  manu, 
Nil  opus  furto.     Lauros  tibi,  dulcis  Elisa, 
Si  neget  optata  Popus,  Apollo  dabit." 

This  year's  Magazine  also  contains  the  celebrated  Latin  epigram  "  To  a  Lady  (Miss  Maria 
Aston)  who  spoke  in  Defence  of  Liberty,"  and  a  Greek  epigram  to  "Dr.  Birch." — Croker. 

^  1  have  permitted  this  statement  to  remain  in  the  text,  though  I  can  find  in  the  Magazine 
for  1739  but  one  copy  of  English  verses  to  Eliza.  They  are  in  December,  and  signed  Ama- 
sius,  which  is  the  signature  of  some  other  pieces  now  known  to  have  been  written  by  Collins; 
but,  as  Boswell  erroneously  attributed  the  Greek  and  Latin  verses  to  Eliza  to  this  year,  the 
English  verses  may,  like  the  others,  have  belonged  to  1738;  though  even  in  that  volume  I  can 
find  nothing  addressed  to  Eliza  in  English  which  could  be  Johnson's,  except  a  translation  of 
his  own  (as  I  conceive)  Latin  epigram  on  the  gathering  Pope's  laurels.  It  Is  not  easy  to 
account  for  the  inaccuracy  with  which  Mr.  Boswell  confounds  these  two  years.— Croker. 

3  And,  probably,  the  following  Latin  epigram  to  Dr.  Birch : 

"In  BiRcniuM. 
/  "Arte  nova  raraque  fide  perscripserat  ausus 

Birchius  egregios  claraque  gesta  virum. 
Hunc  oculis  veri  Fautrix  lustravit  acutis, 
Et  placido  tandem  haac  edidit  ore,  Dea  : 
•  Perge  modo,  atque  tuas  olim  post  funera  laudes 
Qui  scribat  meritas  Birchius  alter  erit.'  " 

My  chief  reason  for  supposing  this  Latin  epigram  to  be  Johnson's  are,  that  it  is  a  version  of  his 
own  acknowledged  Greek  epigram  which  appeared  in  the  preceding  Magazine,  and  that  he 
had  followed  his  Greek  epigram  on  Eliza  with  a  liatin  paraphrase  in  the  same  style  a« 
this. — Cbokeb. 


*'"'•'**•  MARMOK    XOKFCLCIEXSE.  119 

Birch.."*  It  has  been  erroueously  supposed,  that  an  essay  pub- 
lished ill  tha;  Magazine  this  year,  entitled  "The  Apotheosis  of  Mil 
to".,"  '-vas  written  by  Johnson  ;  and  on  that  supposition  it  has  been 
i:r.|  I'operly  inserted  in  the  edition  of  his  works  by  the  booksellers, 
after  his  decease.  Were  there  no  positive  testimony  as  to  this  point, 
the  style  of  the  performance,  and  the  name  of  Shakspeare  not  being 
mentioned  in  an  Essay  professedly  reviewing  the  principal  English 
poets,  would  ascertain  it  not  to  -be  the  production  of  Johnson.  But 
there  is  here  no  occasion  to  resort  to  internal  evidence  ;  for  my  Lord 
Bishop  of  Salisbury  (Dr.  Douglas)  has  assured  me,  that  it  was  writ- 
ten by  Guthrie.  His  separate  publications  were,  "  A  Complete  Vin- 
dication of  the  Licensers  of  the  Stage,  from  the  malicious  and  scan- 
dalous Aspersions  of  Mr.  Brooke,  Author  of  Gustavus  Vasa,"*  being 
an  ironical  attack  upon  them  for  their  suppression  of  that  Tragedy  ; 
and  "  Marmor  Norfolciense  ;  or,  an  Essay  on  an  ancient  prophetical 
Inscription,  in  monkish  Rhyme,  lately  discovered  near  liynne,  in 
Norfolk,  by  Probus  Britannicus."*  In  this  performance,  he,  in  a 
feigned  inscription,  supposed  to  have  been  found  in  Norfolk,  the 
county  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  then  the  obnoxious  prime  minister 
of  this  country,  inveighs  against  the  Brunswick  succession,  and  the 
measures  of  government  consequent  upon  it.'  To  this  supposed 
prophecy  he  added  a  Commentary,  making  each  expression  apply  to 
the  times,  with  warm  anti-Hanoverian  zeal. 

This  anonymous  pamphlet,  I  believe,  did  not  make  so  much  noise 
as  was  expected,  and,  therefore,  had  not  a  very  extensive  circula- 
tion. Sir  John  Hawkins  relates,  that  "  warrants  were  issued,  and 
messengers  employed  to  apprehend  the  author  ;  who,  though  he 
had  forborne  to  subscribe  his  name  to  the  pamphlet,  the  vigilance  of 
those  in  pursuit  of  him  had  discovered  :"  and  we  are  informed,  that 
he  lay  concealed  in  Lambeth-marsh  till  the  scent  after  him  grew 
cold.  This,  however,  is  altogether  without  foundation  ;  Mr.  Steele, 
one  of  the  Secretaries  of  the  Treasury,  who,  amidst  a  variety  of 
business,  politely  obliged  me  with  his  attentiou  to  my  enquiry,  in- 
formed me,  that  "he  directed  every  possible  search  to  be  made  in 
the  records  of  the  Treasury  and  Secretary  of  State's  Office,  but 

•  Tbe  inscription  and  the  translation  of  it  are  presenred  in  the  Loudon  Magazine  for  tJ4J 
year  1739,  p.  2U, 


120  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  *T*' 

could  find  no  trace  whatever  of  any  warrant  Jiaviug  been  issued  to 
apprehend  the  author  of  this  pamphlet." 

"  Marmor  Norfolciense,"  became  exceedingly  scarce,  so  that  I,  for 
many  years,  endeavoured  in  vain  to  procure  a  cppy  of  it.  At  last  I 
was  indebted  to  the  malice  of  one  of  Johnson's  numerous  petty  ad- 
versaries, who,  in  1115,  published  a  new  edition  of  it,  "  with  Notes 
and  a  Dedication  to  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.,  by  Tribunus  ;"  in 
which  some  puny  scribbler  invidiously  attempted  to  found  upon  it  a 
charge  of  inconsistency  against  its  author,  because  he  had  accepted 
of  a  pension  from  his  present  Majesty,  and  had  written  in  support  of 
the  measures  of  government.  As  a  mortification  to  such  impotent 
malice,  of  which  there  are  so  many  instances  towards  men  of  emi- 
nence, I  am  happy  to  relate,  that  this  felum  imbelle  did  not  reach  its 
exalted  object,  till  about  a  year  after  it  thus  appeared,  when  I  men- 
tioned it  to  him,  supposing  that  he  knew  of  the  republication.  To 
my  surprise,  he  had  not  yet  heard  of  it.  He  requested  me  to  go 
directly  and  get  it  for  him,  which  I  did.  He  looked  at  it  and 
laughed,  and  seemed  to  be  much  diverted  with  the  feeble  efforts  of 
his  unknown  adversary,  who,  I  hope,  is  alive  to  read  this  account. 
"  Now,"  said  he,  "  here  is  somebody  who  thinks  he  has  vexed  me 
sadly  ;  yet,  if  it  had  not  been  for  you,  you  rogue,  I  should  probably 
never  have  seen  it."' 


-  These  two  satirical  pamphlets  were,  in  some  degree,  prompted  by  the  principle  whicb 
Johnson  frequently  declared  to  be  the  only  true  genuine  motive  tc  writing,  namely,  pecu- 
niary profit.  This  principle  was  not  only  avowed  by  Johnson,  but  seenis  tc  have  been 
wrought  by  him  into  a  habit.  He  was  never  greedy  of  money,  but  without  money  could  not 
be  stimulated  to  write.  Yet  was  he  not  so  indifferent  to  the  subjects  that  he  was  requested  to 
write  on,  as  at  any  time  to  abandon  either  his  religious  or  political  principles.  He  would  no 
more  have  put  his  name  to  an  Arian  or  Socinian  tract  than  to  a  defence  of  Atheism.  At  the 
time  when  '  Faction  Detected"  came  out,  a  pamphlet  of  which  the  late  Lord  Egmont  is  now 
generally  understood  to  have  been  the  author,  Osborne,  the  bookseller,  held  out  to  him  a 
strong  temptation  to  answer  it,  which  he  refused,  being  convinced,  as  he  assured  me,  that 
the  charge  contained  ,in  it  was  made  good,  and  that  the  argument  grounded  thereon  was  un- 
answerable. The  truth  is,  that  Johnson's  political  prejudices  were  a  mist  that  the  eye  of  his 
judgment  could  not  penetrate:  in  all  the  measures  of  Walpole's  government  he  could  see 
nothing  right ;  nor  could  he  be  convinced,  in  his  invectives  against  a  standing  army,  as  the 
Jacobites  affected  to  call  it,  that  the  peasantry  of  a  country  was  not  an  adequate  defence 
against  an  invasion  of  it  by  an  armed  force.  He  almost  asserted  in  terms,  that  the  succession 
to  the  crown  had  been  illegally  interrupted,  and  that  from  whig  politics  none  of  the  benefits 
of  government  could  be  expected.  From  hence  it  appears,  and  to  his  honor  be  it  said,  that 
his  principles  cooperated  with  his  necessities,  and  that  prostitution  of  his  talents  could  Dot, 
Is  justice,  be  imputed  to  him. — Hawkins. 


JStat.  30.  PAPER    OF    SIR   JOSHUA    REYNOLDS.  121 

As  Mr.  Pope  s  uote  concerning  Johnson,  alluded  to  in  a  former 
page,  refers  both  to  his  "  London,"  and  his  "  Marmor  Norfolciense," 
I  have  deferred  inserting  it  till  now.  I  am  indebted  for  it  to  Dr. 
Percy,  the  bishop  of  Dromore,  who  permitted  me  to  copy  it  from  the 
original  in  his  possession.  It  was  presented  to  his  lordship  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  to  whom  it  was  given  by  the  son  of  Mr.  Richard- 
son the  painter,  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  I  have  trans- 
cribed it  with  minute  exactness,  that  the  peculiar  mode  of  writing, 
and  imperfect  spelling  of  that  celebrated  poet,  may  be  exhibited  to 
the  curious  in  literature.  It  justifies  Swift's  epithet  of  "  paper- 
sparing  Pope,"  for  it  is  written  on  a  slip  no  larger  than  a  common 
message-card,  and  was  sent  to  Mr.  Richardson,  along  with  the  imi- 
tation of  Juvenal. 

"  This  is  imitated  b_v  one  Johnson  who  put  in  for  a  Publick-school  in  Shrop- 
shire, but  was  disappointed.  He  has  an  infirmity  of  the  convulsive  liind,  that 
attacks  him  sometimes,  so  as  to  make  Him  a  sad  Spectacle.'  Mr.  P.  from  the 
merit  of  This  Work  which  was  all  the  knowledge  he  had  of  Him  endeavour'd 
to  serve  Him  without  his  own  application ;  &  wrote  to  my  L"^.  gore,  but  he  did 
not  succeed.  Mr.  Johnson  published  afterw^'.  another  Poem  in  Latin  with 
Notes  the  whole  very  Humerous  call'd  the  Norfolk  Prophecy.  P." 

Johnson  had  been  told  of  this  note  ;  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  in- 
formed him  of  the  compliment  which  it  contained,  but,  from  delicacy, 
avoided  showing  him  the  paper  itself.  When  Sir  Joshua  observed 
to  Johnson  that  he  seemed  very  desirous  to  see  Pope's  note,  he 
answered,  "  Who  would  not  be  proud  to  have  such  a  man  as  Pope 
so  solicitous  in  inquiring  about  him  ?" 

The  infirmity  to  which  Mr.  Pope  alludes,  appeared  to  me  also,  as 
will  be  hereafter  observed,  to  be  of  the  convulsive  kind,  and  of  the 
nature  of  that  distemper  called  St.  Vitus's  dance  ;  and  in  this  opi- 
nion I  am  confirmed  by  the  description  which  Sydenham  gives  of 
that  disease.  "  This  disorder  is  a  kind  of  convulsion.  It  manifests 
tself  by  halting  or  unsteadiness  of  one  of  the  legs,  which  the  patient 
draws  after  him  like  an  idiot.     If  the  hand  of  the  same  side  be  ap- 

>  It  is  clear  that,  as  Johnson  advanced  in  life,  these  convulsive  infirmities,  though  never 
entirely  absent,  were  so  far  subdued,  that  he  could  not  be  called  a  sad  spectacle  We  have 
seen  that  he  was  rejected  from  two  schools  on  account  of  these  distortions,  which  in  his  latter 
years  were  certainly  not  violent  enough  to  excite  disgust. — Croker. 

6 


122  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^* 

plied  to  the  breast,  or  any  other  part  of  the  body,  he  cannot  keep 
it  a  moment  iu  the  same  posture,  but  it  will  be  drawn  into  a  differ- 
ent one  by  a  convulsion,  notwithstanding  all  his  efforts  to  the  con- 
trary." Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  however,  was  of  a  different  opinion, 
and  favoured  me  with  the  following  Paper. 

"  Those  motions  or  tricks  of  Dr.  Johnson  are  improperly  called  convulsions. 
He  could  sit  motionless,  when  he  was  told  so  to  do,  as  wfU  as  any  other  man. 
My  opinion  is,  that  it  proceeded  from  a  habit  ^  which  he  had  indulged  himself 
in,  of  accompanying  his  thoughts  with  certain  untoward  actions ;  and  those 
actions  always  appeared  to  me  as  if  they  were  meant  to  reprobate  some  part 
of  his  past  conduct.  Whenever  he  was  not  engaged  in  conversation,  such 
thoughts  were  sure  to  rush  into  his  mind ;  and,  for  this  reason,  any  company, 
any  employment  whatever,  he  preferred  to  being  alone.  The  great  business 
of  his  life  (he  said)  was  to  escape  from  himself.  This  disposition  he  considered 
as  the  disease  of  his  mind,  which  nothing  cured  but  company. 

"  One  instance  of  his  absence  and  particularity,  as  it  is  characteristic  of  the 
man,  may  be  worth  relating.  When  he  and  I  took  a  journey  together  into  the 
West,  we  visited  the  late  Mr.  Bankes,  of  Dorsetshire ;  the  conversation  turning 
upon  pictures,  which  Johnson  could  not  well  see,  he  retired  to  a  corner  of  the 
room,  stretching  out  his  right  leg  as  far  as  he  could  reach  before  him,  then 
bringing  up  his  left  leg,  and  stretching  his  right  still  further  on.  The  old 
gentleman  observing  him,  went  up  to  him,  and  in  a  very  courteous  manner 
assured  him,  though  it  was  not  a  new  house,  the  flooring  was  perfectly  safe. 
The  Doctor  started  from  his  reverie,  like  a  person  waked  out  of  his  sleep,  but 
spoke  not  a  word." 

While  we  are  on  this  subject,  my  readers  may  not  be  displeased 
with  another  anecdote,  communicated  to  me  by  the  same  friend, 
from  the  relation  of  Mr.  Hogarth. 

Johnson  used  to  be  a  pretty  frequent  visitor  at  the  house  of 
Mr.  Eichardson,  author  of  Clarissa,  and  other  novels  of  extensive 
reputation.  Mr.  Hogarth  came  one  day  to  see  Richardson,  soon 
after  the  execution  of  Dr.  Cameron  for  having  taken  arms  for  the 
house  of  Stuart  in  1745-6  ;  and  being  a  warm  partisan  of  George 

'  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  notion  on  this  subject  is  confirmed  by  what  Johnson  himself  said  to 
»  young  lady,  the  niece  of  his  friend  Christopher  Smart.  See  a  note  by  Mr.  Boswell  on  soin« 
particulars  communicated  by  Reynolds,  under  March  30,  1783. — Malone. 

^  [The  then  representative  of  the  family  of  Bankes  of  Corfe  Castle:  for  the  gallant 
defence  of  which  mansion  by  Lady  Bankes,  during  the  great  civil  war,  see  Clarendon,  vol. 
iv.  The  present  representative  of  this  distinguished  family  is  William  John  Bankes,  the  well 
known  Oriental  traveller,  and  late  M.P.  for  Dorsetshire.    1835.] 


-^TAT.  80.  CASE    OF    DR.    CAMERON.  125i 

the  Secoucl,  he  observed  to  Richardson,  that  certainly  there  must 
have  been  some  very  unfavourable  circumstances  lately  discovered 
in  this  particular  case,  which  had  induced  the  King  to  approve  of 
an  execution  for  rebellion  so  long  after  the  time  when  it  was  com- 
mitted, as  this  had  the  appearance  of  putting  a  man  to  death  in  cold 
blood,'  and  was  very  unlike  his  Majesty's  usual  clemency.  While  he 
was  talking,  he  perceived  a  person  standing  at  a  window  in  the 
room,  shaking  his  head,  and  rolling  himself  about  in  a  strango 
ridiculous  manner.  He  concluded  that  he  was  an  idiot,  whom 
his  relations  had  put  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Richardson,  as  a  very 
good  man.  To  his  great  surprise,  however,  this  figure  stalked 
forwards  to  where  he  and  Mr.  Richardson  were .  sitting,  and  all  at 
once  took  up  the  argument,  and  burst  out  into  an  invective  against 
George  the  Second,  as  one  who,  upon  all  occasions,  was  unrelenting 
and  barbarous  ;  mentioning  many  instances  ;  particularly,  that 
when  an  ofiicer  of  high  rank  had  been  acquitted  by  a  court-martial, 
George  the  Second  had,  with  his  own  hand,  struck  his  name  off  the 
list.  In  short,  he  displayed  such  a  power  of  eloquence,  that 
Hogarth  looked  at  him  with  astonishment,  and  actually  imagined 
that  this  idiot  had  been  at  the  moment  inspired.  Neither  Hogarth 
nor  Johnson  were  made  known  to  each  other  at  this  interview.* 

'  Impartial  posterity  may,  perhaps,  be  as  little  inclined  as  Dr.  Johnson  was,  to  justify  the 
uncoraraou  rigour  exercised  in  the  ease  of  Dr.  Archibald  Cameron.  He  was  an  amiable  and 
truly  licnest  man  ;  and  his  offence  was  owing  to  a  generous,  though  mistaken,  principle  of 
duty.  Being  obliged,  after  1746,  to  give  up  his  profession  as  a  physician,  and  to  go  into  foreign 
parts,  he  was  honoured  with  the  rank  of  Colonel,  both  in  the  French  and  Spanish  service.  He 
was  a  son  of  the  ancient  and  respectable  family  of  Cameron  of  Lochiel ;  and  his  brother, 
who  was  the  chief  of  that  brave  clan,  distinguished  himself  by  moderation  and  humanity, 
while  the  Highland  army  marched  victorious  through  Scotland.  It  is  remarkable  of  this 
chief,  that  though  he  had  earnestly  remonstrated  against  the  attempt  as  hopeless,  he  was  of 
too  heroic  a  spirit  not  to  venture  his  life  and  fortune  in  the  cause,  when  personally  asked  by 
Liui  whom  he  thought  his  prince. — Boswell. 

^  Mr.  Hogarth,  among  the  variety  of  kindnesses  shown  to  me,  was  used  to  be  very  earnest 
that  I  should  obtain  the  acquaintance,  and,  if  iiossible,  the  friendship,  of  Dr.  Johnson,  whose 
conversation  was,  (he  said,)  to  the  talk  of  other  men,  like  Titian's  paintings  compared  to 
Hudson's.  Of  Dr.  Johnson,  when  my  father  and  Hogarth  were  talking  together  about  him 
one  day,  "That  man,"  said  the  latter,  "  is  not  contented  with  believing  the  Bible,  but  he 
fairly  resolves,  I  think,  to  believe  nothing  i^it  the  Bible.  Johnson  (added  he),  though  so  wise 
a  fellow,  is  more  like  King  David  than  King  Solomon  ;  for  he  says,  in  his  haste,  that  aU  men 
are  liars."  Dr.  Johnson  made  four  lines  on  the  death  of  poor  Hogarth,  which  werf  equally 
true  and  pleasing :  I  know  not  why  Garrick's  were  preferred  to  them : — 
'  The  hand  of  him  here  torpid  lies, 

That  drew  tlie  essential  form  of  grace ; 
Here  closed  in  death  the  attentive  eyes, 
That  saw  the  manners  in  the  face.'  " — FlOZZI. 


124  LIFE    OP  JOHNSON.  ^^**- 

In  1*140,  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  the 
•■'  Preface,"  f  the  "  Life  of  Admiral  Blake  "  *  and  the  first  parts  of 
those  of  "  Sir  Francis  Drake  "  *  and  "  Philip  Barretier,"  *  both 
which  he  finished  the  following  year.  He  also  wrote  an  "  Essay 
on  Epitaphs,"  *  and  an  "  Epitaph  on  Philips,  a  Musician,"  *  which 
was  afterwards  published,  with  some  other  pieces  of  his,  in  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams's Miscellanies.  This  Epitaph  is  so  exquisitely  beautiful,  that  I 
remember  even  Lord  Kames,  strangely  prejudiced  as  he  was  against 
Dr.  Johnson,  was  compelled  to  allow  it  very  high  praise.  It  has 
been  ascribed  to  Mr.  Garrick,  from  its  appearing  at  first  with  the 
signature  G. ;  but  I  have  heard  Mr.  Garrick  declare,  that  it  was 
written  liy  Dr.  Johnson,  and  give  the  following  account  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  composed.  Johnson  and  he  were  sitting 
togetlier  ;  when,  amongst  other  things,  Garrick  repeated  an  Epi- 
taph upon  this  Pliilips  by  a  Dr.  Wilkes,  in  these  words  : 

"  Exalted  soul !  whose  harmony  could  please 
The  love-sick  virgin,  and  the  gouty  ease  ; 
Could  jarring  discord,  like  Amphion,  move 
To  beauteous  order  and  harmonious  love ; 
Rest  here  in  peace,  till  angels  bid  thee  rise, 
And  meet  thy  blessed  Saviour  in  the  skies." 

Johnson  shook  his  head  at  these  common-place  funeral  lines,  and 
said  to  Garrick,  "  I  think,  Davy,  I  can  make  a  better."  Then, 
stirring  about  his  tea  for  a  little  while,  in  a  state  of  meditation,  he 
almost  extempore  produced  the  following  verses  : 

"  Philips,  whose  touch  harmonious  could  remove 
The  pangs  of  guilty  power  or  hapless  love  ; 
Rest  here,  distress'd  by  poverty  no  more, 
Here  find  that  calm  thou  gav'st  so  oft  before ; 
Sleep,  undisturb'd,  within  this  peaceful  shrine. 
Till  angels  wake  thee  with  a  note  hke  thine  !" 

At  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Garrick  favoured  me  with  this  anec- 
dote, he  repeated  a  very  pointed  Epigram  by  Johnson,  on  George  the 
Second  and  Colley  Gibber,  which  has  never  yet  appeared,  and  of 
which  I  know  not  the  exact  date.  Dr.  Johnson  afterwards  gave  it 
to  me  himself : 


'*""*^  gentleman's  magazine.  126 

"  Augustus  still  survives  in  Maro's  strain, 
And  Spenser's  verse  prolongs  Eliza's  reign; 
Great  George's  acts  let  tuneful  Cibber  sing, 
For  Nature  form'd  the  Poet  for  the  King." 

In  1141,  he  wrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  the  "Pre- 
face ;"f  "  Conclusion  of  his  Lives  of  Drake  and  Barretier  ;"  *  "  A 
free  Translation  of  the  Jests  of  Hierocles,  with  an  Introduction  ;"f 
and,  I  think,  the  following  pieces  :  "  Debate  on  the  Proposal  of 
Parliament  to  Cromwell,  to  assume  the  Title  of  King,  abridged, 
modified,  and  digested  ;"f  "  Translation  of  Abbe  Guyon's  Disserta- 
tion on  the  Amazons  ;"f  "  Translation  of  Fontenelle's  Panegyric  on 
Dr.  Morin."f  Two  notes  upon  this  appear  to  me  undoubtedly  his. 
He  this  year,  and  the  two  following,  wrote  the  Parliamentary  De- 
bates. He  told  me  himself,  that  he  was  the  sole  composer  of  them 
for  those  three  years  only.  He  was  not,  however,  precisely  exact  in 
his  statement,  which  he  mentioned  from  hasty  recollection;  for  it  is 
sufficiently  evident,  that  his  composition  of  them  began  November 
19,  1740,  and  ended  February  23,  1742-3. 

It  appears  from  some  of  Cave's  letters  to  Dr.  Birch,  that  Cave 
had  better  assistance  for  that  branch  of  his  Magazine,  than  Has  been 
generally  supposed;  and  that  he  was  indefatigable  in  getting  it  made 
as  perfect  as  he  could.     Thus,  21st  July,  1735,      , 

"  I  trouble  you  with  the  inclosed,  because  you  said  you  could  easily  correct 
what  is  here  given  for  Lord  Chesterfield's  speech.  I  beg  you  will  do  so  af 
soon  as  you  can  for  me,  because  the  month  is  far  advanced." 

And  15th  July,  1737, 

"  As  you  remember  the  debates  so  far  as  to  perceive  the  speeches  already 
printed  are  not  exact,  I  beg  the  favour  that  you  will  peruse  the  inclosed,  and, 
in  the  best  manner  your  memory  will  serve,  correct  the  mistaken  passages,  or 
add  anything  that  is  omitted.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  something  of  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle's  speech,  which  would  be  particularly  of  service.  A  gentle- 
man has  Lord  Bathurst's  speech  to  add  something  to." 

And  July  3,  1744, 

"  You  will  see  what  stupid,  low,  abominable  stuff  is  put  upon  your  nobl« 
And  learned  friend's  character,  such  as  I  should  quite  reject,  and  endeavonr  to 
do  something  beUer  towards  doing  justice  to  the  character.     But  as  I  cannot 


126  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*^ 

fixpect  to  attain  my  desire  in  that  respect,  it  would  be  a  great  satisfaction,  as 
well  as  an  honour  to  our  worlc,  to  have  the  favour  of  the  genuine  speech.  It 
Is  a  method  that  several  have  been  pleased  to  take,  as  I  could  show,  but  I 
think  myself  under  a  restraint.  I  shall  say  so  far,  that  I  have  had  some  by  a 
third  hand,  which  I  understood  well  enough  to  come  from  the  first ;  others  by 
penny-post,  and  others  by  the  speakers  themselves,  who  have  been  pleased  to 
visit  St.  John's  Gate,  and  show  particular  marks  of  their  being  pleased." — 
[Birch's  MSS.  in  Brit.  Mus.  4302.] 

There  is  no  reason,  I  believe,  to  doubt  the  veracity  of  Cave.  It 
is,  however,  remarkable  that  none  of  these  letters  are  in  the  years 
during  which  Johnson  alone  furnished  the  Debates,  and  one  of  them 
is  in  the  very  year  after  he  ceased  from  that  labour.  Johnson  told 
me,  that  as  soon  as  he  found  that  the  speeches  were  thought  genu- 
ine, he  determined  that  he  would  write  no  more  of  them;  "  for  he 
would  not  be  accessory  to  the  propagation  of  falsehood."  And  such 
was  the  tenderness  of  his  conscience,  that  a  short  time  before  his 
death  he  expressed  his  regret  for  his  having  been  the  author  of  fic- 
tions which  had  passed  for  realities. 

He  nevertheless  agreed  with  me  in  thinking,  that  the  debates 
which  Ee  had  framed  were  to  be  valued  as  orations  upon  questions 
of  public  importance.  They  have  accordingly  been  collected  in 
volumes,  properly  arranged,  and  recommended  to  the  notice  of  par- 
liamentary speakers  by  a  preface,  written  by  no  inferior  hand.'  I 
must,  however,  observe,  that  altliough  there  is  in  those  debates  a 
wonderful  store  of  political  information,  and  very  powerful  eloquence, 
I  cannot  agree  that  they  exhibit  the  manner  of  each  particular 
speaker,  as  Sir  John  Hawkins  seems  to  think.  But,  indeed,  what 
opinion  can  we  have  of  his  judgment  and  taste  in  public  speaking, 
who  presumes  to  give,  as  the  characteristics  of  two  celebi^ated  ora- 
tors, "  the  deep-mouthed  rancour  of  Pulteney,  and  the  yelping  per- 
tinacity of  Pitt  ?" » 

1  I  am  assured  that  the  editor  is  Mr.  George  Chalmers,  whose  commercial  works  are  well- 
linowu  and  esteemed. — Boswell. 

"  Mr.  Murphy  says:— "That  Johnson  was  the  author  of  the  debates  during  that  period 
(Nov.  19, 1740,  to  Feb.  1742-3)  was  not  generally  known  ;  but  the  secret  transpired  several 
years  afterwards,  and  was  avowed  l)y  himself  on  the  following  occasion :— Mr.  Wedderburna 
(afterwards  Lord  Loughborough  ana  Earl  of  Rosslyn),  Dr.  Johnson,  Dr.  Francis  (the  transsla- 
tor  of  Horace),  the  present  writer,  and  others,  dined  with  the  late  Mr.  Foote.  An  important 
debate  towards  the  end  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  administration  being  ir.eiitioned.  Dr.  Francis 


^'f'^1'-  S2.  PARLIAMENTARY   DEBATES.  121 

observed,  "that  Mr.  Pitt's  speech  on  that  occasion  was  the  best  he  had  ever  read."  He  added 
"  that  he  had  employed  eight  years  of  his  life  in  the  study  of  Demosthenes,  and  finished 
a  ti-anslation  of  that  celebrated  orator,  with  all  the  decorations  of  style  and  language  within 
the  reach  of  his  capacity  ;  but  he  had  met  with  nothing  equal  to  the  speech  above  mentioned." 
Many  of  the  company  remembered  the  debate;  and  some  passages  were  cited  with  the  appro- 
bation and  amilause  of  all  present.  During  the  ardour  of  conversation,  Johnson  remained 
silent.  As  soon  as  the  warmth  of  praise  subsided,  he  opened  with  these  words : — "  That 
speech  I  wrotein  a  garret  in  Exeter  Street."  The  company  was  struck  with  astonishment. 
After  stariug  at  each  other  in  silent  amaze.  Dr.  Francis  asked  how  that  speech  could  be  writ- 
ten by  liim?  "Sir,"  said  Johnson,  "  I  wrote  it  in  Exeter  Street.  I  never  had  been  in  the 
gallery  of  the  House  of  Commons  but  once.  Cave  had  interest  with  the  door-keepers.  He, 
and  tiie  persons  employed  under  him,  gained  admittance  :  they  brought  away  the  subject  of 
discussion,  flie  names  of  the  speakers,  the  sides  they  took,  and  the  order  in  which  they  rose, 
together  with  notes  of  the  arguments  advanced  in  the  course  of  the  debate.  The  whole  was 
afterwards  communicated  to  me,  and  I  composed  the  speeches  in  the  form  which  they  now 
have  in  the  Parliamentary  Debates."  To  this  discovery  Dr.  Francis  made  answer  : — "  Then, 
sir,  you  have  exceeded  Demosthenes  himself ;  for  to  say  that  you  have  exceeded  Francis's 
Demosthenes,  would  be  saying  nothing."  The  rest  of  the  company  bestowed  lavish  enco- 
miums on  Johnson  :  one,  in  particular,  praised  his  impartiality  ;  observing,  that  he  dealt  out 
reason  and  eloquence  with  an  equal  hand  to  both  parties.  "  That  is  not  quite  true,"  said 
Johnson;  "Isaved  appearances  '.olerably  well,  but  I  took  care  that  the  Whig  ooos  should  aot 
havf  the  best  of  it." 


CHAPTER    VII. 
1741—1744 

Johnson  finishes  "  Irene  " — Writes  "  Essay  on  the  Account  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Duchess  oi 
Marlborough  '"—Lives  of  Burman  and  Sydenham — "  Proposals  for  printing  Bibliotheca 
Harleiana  " — Projects  a  History  of  Parliament — Writes  "  Considerations  on  the  Dispute 
between  Crousaz  and  Warburton,  on  "  Pope's  Essay  on  Man  " — "  Dedication  to  James'a 
Dictionary  " — "  Friendship,  an  Ode  " — His  extreme  Indigence  at  this  Time— His  Acquaint- 
ance with  Savage — Anecdotes — Publishes  "  The  Life  of  Richard  Savage  "—Case  of  the 
Countess  of  Macclesfield — Writes  "  Preface  to  the  Harleian  Miscellany." 

This  year  I  find  that  his  tragedy  of  Irene  had  been  for  soeqg 
time  ready  for  the  stage,  and  that  his  necessities  made  him  desirous 
of  getting  as  much  as  he  could  for  it  without  delay  ;  for  there  is  the 
following  letter  from  Mr.  Cave  to  Dr.  Birch,  in  the  same  volume  of 
manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum,  from  which  I  copied  those  above 
quoted.  They  were  most  obligingly  pointed  out  to  me  by  Sir  Wil- 
liam Musgrave,  one  of  the  curators  of  that  noble  repository. 

"Sept,  9, 1741. 
"  1  have  put  Mr.  Johnson's  play  into  Mr.  Gray's  hands,  in  order  to  sell  it  to 
him,  if  he  is  inclined  to  buy  it ;  but  I  doubt  whether  he  will  or  not.  He 
would  dispose  of  the  copy,  and  whatever  ad^  antage  may  be  made  by  acting  it. 
Would  your  society,*  or  any  gentleman,  or  body  of  men  that  you  know,  take 
such  a  bargain  ?  He  and  I  are  very  unfit  to  deal  with  theatrical  persons. 
Fleetwood  was  to  have  acted  it  last  season,  but  Johnson's  diffidence  or  * 
prevented  it." 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  "  Irene,"  was  not  brought  inti 
public  notice  till  Garrick  was  manager  of  Drury-lane  theatre 

'  Not  the  Royal  Society  ;  but  the  Society  for  the  Encouragement  of  Learning,  of  which 
Dr.  Birch  was  a  leading  member.  Their  object  was,  to  assist  authors  in  printing  expensive 
works.  It  existed  from  about  1735  to  1746,  when,  having  incurred  a  considerable  debt,  it  was 
dissolved. 

-  There  is  no  erasure  here,  but  a  mere  blank  ;  to  fill  up  which  may  be  an  exercise  foi 
ingenious  conjecture. — BoswEli. 
126 


''f^f-SS.  BIBLIOTflECA   fiARLEIAKA.  129 

la  1742  *  be  wrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  the  "  Preface,"f 
the  "  Parliamentary  Debates,"  *  "  Essay  on  the  Account  of  the 
Conduct  of  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough,"  *  then  the  popular  topic 
of  conversation.  This  Essay  is  a  short  but  masterly  performance. 
We  find  him,  in  Xo.  13  of  his  Rambler,  censuring  a  profligate  sen- 
timent in  that  "  Account,"  and  again  insisting  upon  it  strenuously 
in  conversation.  "  An  Account  of  the  Life  of  Peter  Burman,"  *  I 
believe  chiefly  taken  from  a  foreign  publication  ;  as,  indeed,  he 
could  not  himself  know  much  about  Burman  ;  "  Additions  to  his 
Life  of  Barretier,"  *  "  The  Life  of  Sydenham,"  *  afterwards  pre- 
fixed to  Dr.  Swan's  edition  of  his  works  ;  "  Proposals  for  printing 
Bibliotheca  Harleiana,  or  a  Catalogue  of  the  Library  of  the  Earl  of 
Oxford."  *  His  account  of  that  celebrated  collection  of  Books,  in 
which  he  displays  the  importance  to  literature,  of  what  the  French 
call  a  catalogiie  raisonne,  when  the  subjects  of  it  are  extensive  and 
various,  and  it  is  executed  with  ability,  cannot  fail  to  impress  all  his 
readers  with  admiration  of  his  philological  attainments.  It  was 
afterwards  prefixed  to  the  first  volume  of  the  Catalogue,  in  which 
the  Latin  accounts  of  books  were  written  by  him.  He  was  em- 
ployed in  this  business  by  Mr.  Thomas  Osborne,  the  bookseller,  who 
purchased  the  library  for  £13,000,  a  sum  which  Mr.  Oldys  says, 
in  one  of  his  manuscripts,  was  not  more  than  the  binding  of  the 
books  had  cost  ;  yet,  as  Dr.  Johnson  assured  me,  the  slowness  of 
the  sale  was  such,  that  there  was  not  much  gained  by  it.  It  has 
been  confidently  related,  with  many  embellishments,  that  Johnson 
one  day  knocked  Osborne '  down  in  his  shop  with  a  folio,  and  put 
his  foot  upon  his  neck.     The  simple  truth  I  had  from  Johnson  him- 

'  From  one  of  his  letters  to  a  friend  written  in  June,  1742,  it  should  seem  that  he  then  pur- 
posed to  write  a  play  on  the  subject  of  Charles  the  Twelfth  of  Sweden,  and  to  have  it 
ready  for  the  ensuing  winter.  The  passage  alluded  to,  however,  is  somewhat  ambiguous  ;  and 
the  work  which  he  then  had  in  contemplation  may  have  been  a  Jiwiory  of  that  monarch. — 
Malose. 

''  Osborne  appears,  in  the  Dunciad,  contending  for  the  prize  among  the  booksellers,  and 
r,arrTing  it  off  :-^ 

"  Osborne,  though  perfect  modesty  o'ercome, 
Crown'd  with  the  Jordan,  walks  contented  home." 

He  was  extremely  ignorant  :  of  title-pages  or  editions  he  had  no  knowledge  or  remembrance 
but  in  all  the  petty  tricks  of  his  trade  he  was  most  expert.  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  Life  of  Pope 
Bays,  that  he  was  "  entirely  destitute  of  shame,  without  sense  of  any  disgrace,  but  that  ot 
poverty."     He  died  in  1767. 

6* 


130  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOlf.  1^^- 

self.     "  Sir,  he  was  impertinent  to  me,  and  1  beat  him.     But  it  was 
not  in  his  shop  :  it  was  in  my  own  cliamber." 

A  very  diligent  observer  may  trace  him  where  we  should  not 
easily  suppose  him  to  be  found.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  wrote  the 
little  abridgment  entitled  "  Foreign  History,"  in  the  Magazine  for 
December.     To  prove  it  I  shall  quote  the  introduction  : — 

"  As  this  is  that  season  of  the  year  in  which  Nature  may  be  said  to  com- 
mand a  suspension  of  liostilities,  and  which  seems  intended,  by  putting  a  short 
Btop  to  violence  and  slaughter,  to  afford  time  for  malice  to  relent,  and  animos- 
ity to  subside ;  we  can  scarce  expect  any  other  account  than  of  plans,  negoci- 
ations,  and  treaties,  of  proposals  for  peace,  and  preparations  for  war." 

As  also  this  passage  : 

"  Let  those  who  -despise  the  capacity  of  the  Swiss,  tell  us  by  what  wonderful 
policy,  or  by  what  happy  conciliation  of  interests,  it  is  brought  to  pass,  that  in 
a  body  made  up  of  different  communities  and  different  religions,  there  should 
be  no  civil  commotions,  though  the  people  are  so  warlike,  that  to  nominate 
and  raise  an  army  is  the  same." 

I  am  obliged  to  Mr.  Astle  for  his  ready  permission  to  copy  the 
two  following  letters,  of  which  the  originals  are  in  his  possession. 
Their  contents  show  that  they  were  written  about  this  time,  and 
that  Johnson  was  now  engaged  in  preparing  an  historical  account 
of  the  British  Parliament. 

Letter  12.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

[Aug.  1743.] 

"  Sir, — I  believe  I  am  going  to  write  a  long  letter,  and  have  therefore  taken 
a  whole  sheet  of  paper.  The  first  thing  to  be  written  about  is  our  historical 
design. 

"  You  mentioned  the  proposal  of  printing  in  numbers  as  an  alteration  in  the 
scheme,  but  I  believe  you  mistook,  some  way  or  other,  my  meaning;  I  had 
In  other  view  than  that  you  might  rather  print  too  many  of  five  sheets,  than 
oi  five  and  thirty, 

"  With  regard  to  what  I  shall  say  on  the  manner  of  proceeding,  I  would 
have  it  understood  as  wholly  indifferent  to  me,  and  my  opinion  only,  not  my 
resolution.     Emptoris  sit  eligere. 

"  I  think  the  insertion  of  the  exact  dates  of  the  most  important  events  in 
the  margin,  or  of  so  many  events  as  may  enable  the  reader  to  regulate  the 
order  of  facts  with  sufficient  exactness,  the  proper  medium  between  a  journal, 
which  has  regard  only  to  time,  and  a  history,  which  ranges  facts  according  ta 


*"!  88.  LETTER   TO    MK.    CAVE.  131 

tlicir  dependence  on  each  other,  and  postpones  or  anticipates  according  tc 
the  convenience  of  narration.  I  think  the  worli  ought  to  partake  of  the 
spirit  of  history,  wliich  is  contrai-y  to  minute  exactness,  and  of  the  regularity 
of  a  journal,  which  is  inconsistent  with  spirit.  For  this  reason,  I  neither  ad- 
mit numbers  or  dates,  nor  reject  them. 

"  I  am  of  your  opinion  with  regard  to  placing  most  of  the  resolutions,  &c. 
in  the  margin,  and  think  we  shall  give  the  most  complete  account  of  parHa- 
mentary  proceedings  that  can  be  contrived.  The  naked  papers,  without  an 
historical  treatise  interwoven,  require  some  other  book  to  make  them  under- 
stood. I  will  date  the  succeeding  facts  with  some  exactness,  but  I  think  in  the 
margin. 

"  You  told  me  on  Saturday  that  I  had  received  money  on  this  work,  and 
found  set  down  13Z.  2s.  Gd.  reckoning  the  half  guinea  of  last  Saturday.  A3 
you  hinted  to  me  that  you  had  many  calls  for  money,  I  would  not  press  you 
too  hard,  and  therefore  shall  desire  only,  as  I  send  it  in,  two  guineas  for  a  . 
sheet  of  copy ;  the  rest  you  may  pay  me  when  it  may  be  more  convenient ; 
and  even  by  this  sheet  payment  I  shall,  for  some  time,  be  very  expensive. 

"  The  Life  of  Savage  I  am  ready  to  go  upon ;  and  in  great  primer,  and 
pica  notes,  I  reckon  on  sending  in  half  a  sheet  a  day ;  but  the  money  for  that 
shall  likewise  lie  by  in  your  hands  till  it  is  done.  With  the  debates,  shall  not 
I  have  business  enough?  if  I  had  but  good  pens. 

"  Towards  Mr.  Savage's  Life  what  more  have  you  got  ?  I  would  willingly 
have  his  trial,  &c.,  and  know  whether  his  defence  be  at  Bristol,  and  would 
have  his  collection  of  Poems,  on  account  of  the  preface ; — '  The  Plain  Dealer,' 
—all  the  Magazines  that  have  anything  of  his  or  relating  to  him. 

"  I  thought  my  letter  would  be  long,  but  it  is  now  ended ;  and  I  am.  Sir, 
yours,  &c.,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  The  boy  found  nie  writing  this  almost  in  the  dark,  when  I  could  not 
quite  easily  read  yours. 

"  I  have  read  the  Italian — nothing  in  it  is  well. 

"  I  had  no  notion  of  having  anything  for  the  Inscription.  I  hope  you  don't 
think  I  kept  it  to  extort  a  price.  I  could  think  of  nothing  till  to-dajfc  If 
you  could  spare  me  another  guinea  for  the  history,  I  should  take  it  very  kindly 
to-night ;  but  if  you  do  not,  I  shall  not  think  it  an  injury.  I  am  almost  wel 
again." 

Letter  13.  TO  MR.  CAVE. 

"Sir, — You  did  not  tell  me  your  determination  about  the  Soldier's  Letter, 
which  I  am  confident  was  never  printed.  I  think  it  will  not  do  by  itself,  or  in 
any  other  place  so  well  as  the  Mag.  Extraordinary.  If  you  will  have  it  all,  I 
believe  you  do  not  think  I  set  it  high ;  and  I  will  be  glad  if  what  you  give 
you  will  give  quickly 


13&  LIFR    OF   JOHNSON.  "*8. 

"  You  need  not  be  in  care  about  something  to  print,  for  I  hav«  got  the 
State  Trials,  and  shall  extract  Layer,  Atterbury,  and  Macclesfield  from  them, 
and  shall  bring  them  to  you  in  a  fortnight;  after  which  I  will  try  to  get  the 
South  Sea  Report." 

\^No  date,  nor  signature.^ 

I  would  also  ascribe  to  him  an  "Essay  on  the  Description  of 
China,  from  the  Fernch  of  Da  Halde.""}" 

His  writings  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  in  1143,  are,  the  Pre- 
face,f  the  Parliamentary  Debates, f  "  Considerations  on  the  Dis- 
pute between  Crousaz  and  Warburton,  on  Pope's  Essay  on  Man  ;"f 
in  which,  while  he  defends  Crousaz,  he  shows  an  admirable  metaphy- 
gical  acuteness  and  temperance  in  controversy  ;  "  Ad  Lauram  pari- 
turam  Epigrarama  ;"  *  *  and  "  A  Latin  Translation  of  Pope's  Verses 

*  Angliacas  inter  pulcherrima  Laura  pucllas, 
Mox  uteri  pondus  depositura  grave, 
Adsit,  Laura,  tibi  facilis  Lucina  dolenti, 
Neve  tibi  noceat  praenituisse  Deae. 
Mr.  Hector  was  present  when  this  Epigram  was  made  impromptu.    The  first  line  was  pro* 
posed  by  Dr.  James,  and  Johnson  was  called  upon  by  the  company  to  finish  it,  which  he 
instantly  did. — Boswell. 

The  following  elegant  Latin  Ode,  which  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  ]  T*! 
(vol.  xiii.  p.  548),  was,  many  years  ago,  pointed  out  to  James  Bindley,  Esq.,  as  written  by 
Tohnson,  and  may  safely  be  attributed  to  him : — 

AD  ORNATISSIMAM  PUELLAM. 

Vanse  sit  arti,  sit  studio  modus, 
Formosa  virgo  :  sit  speculo  quies, 
Curamque  qu»rendi  decoris 
Mitte,  supervacuosque  cultus. 

Ut  fortuitis  verna  coloribus 
Depicta  vulgo  rura  magis  placent, 
Nee  invident  horto  nitenti 
Divitias  operosiores : 
• 

Lenique  fons  cum  murmure  pulchrior 
Obliquat  ultro  prsecipitem  fugam 
Inter  reluctantes  lapillos,  et 
Ducit  aquas  temere  sequentes : 

Utque  inter  undas,  inter  et  arbores, 
Jam  vere  primo  dulce  strepunt  aves, 
Et  arte  nulla  gratiores 
Ingeminant  sine  lege  cantus : 

Natira  sic  te  gratia,  te  nitor 
Simplex  decebit,  te  veneres  tu» ; 
Nudua  Cupido  suspicatur 
Artifices  nimis  apparatus. 


^''*''-  ^-  GENTI.KMAX's    MAOAZIXE.  133 

on  his  Grotto  :"  and,  as  he  eould  employ  his  pen  with  equal  success 
upon  a  small  matter  as  a  great,  I  suppose  him  to  be  the  author 
of  an  advertisement  for  Osborne,  concerning  the  great  Harleian 
Catalogue. 

But  I  should  think  myself  much  wanting,  both  to  my  illustrious 
friend  and  my  readers,  did  I  not  introduce  here,  with  more  than 
ordinary  respect,  an  exquisitely  beautiful  Ode,  which  has  not  been 
inserted  in  any  of  the  collections  of  Johnson's  poetry,  written  by 
him  at  a  very  early  period,  as  Mr.  Hector  informs  me,  and  inserted 
in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  this  year. 

Friendship,  an  Ode.* 

"  Friendship,  peculiar  boon  of  Heaven, 

The  noble  mind's  delight  and  pride 
To  men  and  angels  only  given, 
To  all  the  lower  world  denied. 

"  While  love,  unknown  among  the  blest, 
Parent  of  thousand  wild  desires, 
The  savage  and  the  human  breast 
Torments  alike  with  raging  fires ; 

"  With  bright,  but  oft  destructive,  gleam. 
Alike  o'er  all  his  lightnings  fly; 
Thy  lambent  glories  only  beam 
Around  the  favourites  of  the  sky. 

**  Thy  gentle  flows  of  guiltless  joya 

On  fools  and  villains  ne'er  descend  > 

Ergo  fluentem  tu  mal6  sedula, 
Ne  saeva  inuras  semper  acu  comam ; 
Nee  sparsa  odorato  nitentes 
Pulvere  dedecores  capillos; 

Quales  nee  olim  vel  Ptolemaeia  i 

Jaetabat  uxor,  sidereo  in  choro 
Utci'pque  devotse  refulgent 
Verticis  exuviae  decori ; 

Nee  diva  mater,  cum  similem  tuae 
Uentita  formam,  et  pulchrior  aspice, 
Permisit  incomtas  protervis 
Fusa  comas  agitare  ventis. — HIaioh. 


1T«L 


184  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 

In  vain  for  thee  the  tyrant  sighs, 
And  hugs  a  flatterer  for  a  friend. 

"Directress  of  the  brave  and  just, 

0  guide  us  through  life's  darksome  way  I 
And  let  the  tortures  of  mistrust 
On  selfish  bosoms  only  prey. 

"  Mor  shall  thine  ardour  cease  to  glow. 
When  souls  to  blissful  climes  remove ; 
What  raised  our  virtue  here  below, 
Siiall  aid  our  happiness  above." 


Juhnsou  had  now  an  opportunity  of  obliging  his  schoolfellow  Dr. 
James,  of  whom  he  once  observed,  "  No  man  brings  more  mind  to 
his  profession."  James  published  this  year  his  "  Medicinal  Diction- 
ary," in  three  volumes  folio.  Johnson,  as  I  understood  from  him, 
had  written,  or  assisted  in  writing,  the  proposals  for  this  work  ;  and 
being  very  fond  of  the  study  of  physic,  in  which  James  was  his 
master,  he  furnished  some  of  the  articles.  He,  however,  certainly 
wrote  for  it  the  Dedication  to  Dr.  Mead,"!"  which  is  conceived  with 
great  address,  *to  conciliate  the  patronage  of  that  very  eminent 
man.' 

It  has  been  circulated,  I  know  not  with  what  autlieuticity,  that 
Johnson  considered  Dr.  Birch  as  a  dull  writer,  and  said  of  him, 
"  Tom  Birch  is  as  brisk  as  a  bee  in  conversation  ;  but  no  sooner 
does  he  take  a  pen  in  his  hand,  than  it  becomes  a  torpedo  to  him, 
and  benumbs  all  his  faculties."  That  the  literature  of  this  country 
is  much  indebted  to  Birch's  activity  and  diligence,  must  certainly  be 
acknowledged.     We  have  seen  that  Johnson  honoured  *  him  with  a 

*  "  Sir, — That  the  Medicinal  Dictionary  is  dedicated  to  you,  is  to  be  imputed  only  to  your 
reputation  for  superior  skill  in  those  sciences  which  I  have  endeavouied  to  explain  and  faci- 
litate :  and  you  are,  therefore,  to  consider  this  address,  if  it  be  agreeable  to  you,  as  one  of  the 
rewards  of  merit ;  and,  if  it  be  otherwise,  as  one  of  the  inconveniences  of  eminence. 

"  However  you  shall  receive  it,  my  design  cannot  be  disappointed  ;  because  this  public 
appeal  to  your  judgment  will  show  that  I  do  not  found  my  hopes  of  approbation  upon  the 
ignorance  of  my  readers,  and  that  I  fear  his  censure  least  whose  knowledge  is  most  exten- 
Bivc.     1  am,  Sir,  your  most  obedient  humble  servant,  R.  James." 

'  No  doubts  as  the  case  has  turned  out,  Birch  is  honoured  by  Johnson's  compliment ;  but 
at  the  time  when  it  was  written,  Birch  was  of  eminence  in  the  literary  world,  and  (what 
affected  Johnson  more  s?»rly)  high  in  the  estimation  of  Cave;  and  Johnson's  learned  flat 


^"'-^  LETTER   TO    LEVETT.  135 

Greek  Ejjigram  ;  and  his  correspondence  with  him,  during  many 
years,  proves  that  he  had  no  mean  opinion  of  him. 

Lftter  14.  TO  DR.  BIRCH. 

"  Thursday,  Sept.  29, 1T43. 
"  Sir, — I  hope  j'ou  will  excuse  nic  for  troubling  you  on  an  occasion  on  which 
I  know  not  whom  else  to  apply  to  :  I  am  at  a  loss  for  the  lives  and  characters 
of  Earl  of  Stanhope,  the  two  Craggs,  and  the  minister  Sunderland ;  and  beg 
that  you  will  inform  [me]  where  I  may  find  them,  and  send  any  pamphlets, 
&c.,  relating  to  them  to  Mr.  Cave,  to  be  perused  for  a  few  days  by.  Sir,  your 
most  humble  servant. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

His  circumstances  were  at  this  time  embarrassed  ;  yet  his  affec- 
tion for  his  mother  was  so  warm,  and  so  liberal,  that  he  took  upon 
himself  a  debt  of  hers,  which,  though  small  in  itself,  was  then  con- 
siderable to  him.  This  appears  from  the  following  letter  which  he 
wrote  to  Mr.  Levett,  of  Lichfield,  the  original  of  which  lies  now 
before  me : 

Letter  15.  TO  MR.  LEVETT,  in  lichfield. 

"  December  1, 1T4S. 
"  Sir, — I  am  extremely  sorry  that  we  have  encroached  so  much  upon  your 
forbearance  with  respect  to  the  interest,  which  a  great  perplexity  of  affairs 
hindered  me  from  thinking  of  with  that  attention  that  I  ought,  and  which  I  am 
not  immediately  able  to  remit  to  you,  but  will  pay  it  (I  think  twelve  pounds) 
in  two  months.  I  look  upon  this,  and  on  the  future  interest  of  that  mortgage, 
as  my  own  debt;  and  beg  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  give  me  directions  how  to 
pay  it,  and  not  to  mention  it  to  my  dear  mother.  If  it  be  necessary  to  pay  this 
in  less  time,  I  believe  I  can  do  it;  but  I  take  two  months  for  certainty,  aaJ 
beg  an  answer  whether  you  can  allow  me  so  much  time.  I  think  myself  very 
much  obliged  to  your  forbearance,  and  shall  esteem  it  a  great  happiness 
to  be  able  to  serve  you.  I  have  great  opportunities  of  dispersing  anything 
that  you  may  think  it  proper  to  make  public.  I  will  give  a  note  for  the  money, 
payable  at  the  time  mentioned,  to  any  one  here  that  you  shall  appoint.  I  am, 
Sir,  your  most  obedient,  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

"At  Mr.  Osborne's,  bookseller,  in  Gray's  Inn." 

teries  of  him,  Miss  Carter,  and  Mr.  Urban,  were  all  probably  prompted  by  the  same  motive— 
a  desire  to  propitiate  Cave.  I  have  seen  a  MS.  letter  of  Bishop  Warburton's,  in  which  he 
Insists,  in  his  usual  decisive  tone,  on  the  poor  use  which  Birch  made  In  his  writings  of  the 
materials  which  he  possessed. — Croker. 


136  LIFE  OF  joai^soK  "^f*^ 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  wrote  anything  in  1744'  for  th3  Gcu- 
tleman's  Magazine,  but  the  Preface.f  His  hfe  of  Barretier  was 
now  repubhshed  in  a  pamphlet  by  itself.  But  he  produced  one  work 
this  year,  fully  sufficient  to  maintain  the  high  reputation  which  he 
had  acquired.  This  was  "  The  Life  of  Richard  Savage  ;"*  a  man, 
of  whom  it  is  difficult  to  speak  impartially,  without  wondering  that 
he  was  for  some  time  the  intimate  companion  of  Johnson  ;  for  hia 
character^  was  marked  by  profligacy,  insolence,  and  ingratitude  : 
yet,  as  he  undoubtedly  had  a  warm  and  vigorous,  though  unregu- 
lated mind,  had  seen  life  in  all  its  varieties,  and  had  been  much  in 
the  company  of  the  statesmen  and  wits  of  his  time,  he  could  commu- 
nicate to  Johnson  an  abundant  supply  of  such  materials  as  his  philo- 
sophical curiosity  most  eagerly  desired  ;  and  as  Savage's  misfortunes 
and  conduct  had  reduced  him  to  the  lowest  state  of  wretchedness  as 
a.  writer  for  bread,  his  visits  to  St.  John's  Gate  naturally  brought 
Johnson  and  him  together ' 


'  In  this  and  the  two  next  years  Mr.  Boswell  has  not  assigned  to  Johnson  any  contribu- 
tions to  tlie  Gentleman's  Magazine,  yet  there  seems  little  doubt  that  from  his  connection 
with  that  worls  he  derived,  for  some  j'ears,  the  chief  and  almost  the  only  means  of  subsistence 
for  himself  and  his  wife  :  perhaps  he  may  have  acted  as  general  editor  with  an  annual 
allowance,  and  he  no  doubt  employed  himself  on  more  literary  works  than  have  been 
acknowledged.  In  this  point  the  public  loss  is,  perhaps,  not  great.  What  he  was  unwilling 
to  avow,  we  need  not  be  very  solicitous  to  discover.  Indeed,  his  personal  history  is,  about 
-this  period,  a  blank,  hidden,  it  is  to  be  feared,  in  the  obscurity  of  indigence.^CROKER. 

'  As  a  specimen  of  Savage's  temper,  I  insert  the  following  letter  from  him  to  a  noble  lord 
[Tyrconnell],  to  whom  he  was  under  great  obligations,  but  who,  on  account  of  his  bad  con- 
duct, was  obliged  to  discard  him.  The  original  was  in  the  hands  of  the  late  Francis  Cockayne 
Cust,  Esq.,  one  of  his  Majesty's  counsel  learned  in  the  law  : — 

"  Right  Honourable  Brute  and  Boobt — I  find  you  want  (as  Mr. is  pleased  to  hint)  to 

8  .rear  away  my  life,  that  is,  the  life  of  your  creditor,  because  he  asks  you  for  a  debt.  The 
public  shall  soon  be  acquainted  with  this,  to  judge  whether  you  are  not  fitter  to  be  an  Irish 
evidence  than  to  be  an  Irish  peer.  I  defy  and  despise  you.  I  am,  your  determined  ad- 
versary, R.  S." 

'  Sir  John  Hawkins  gives  the  world  to  understand,  that  Johnson,  "being  an  admirer  of 
genteel  manners,  was  captivated  by  the  address  and  demeanour  of  Savage,  who,  as  to  his 
exterior,  was,  to  a  remarkable  degree,  accomplished." — Hawkins's  Life,  p.  62.  But  Sir 
John's  notions  of  gentility  must  appear  somewhat  ludicrous,  from  his  stating  the  following 
circumstance  as  presumptive  evidence  that  Savage  was  a  good  swordsman : — "  That  he 
understood  the  exercise  of  a  gentleman's  weapon,  may  be  inferred  from  the  use  made  of  it  in 
that  rash  encounter  related  in  his  Life."  The  dexterity  here  alluded  to  was  that  Savage,  in 
«.  nocturnal  fit  of  drunkenness,  stabbed  a  man  at  a  coffee-house,  and  killed  him  :  for  which 
he  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and  found  guilty  of  murder. 

Johnson,  in  leed,  describes  him  as  having  "  a  grave  and  manly  deportment,  a  solemn 
ilgnity  of  mien ;  but  which,  upon  a  nearer  acquaintance,  softened  into  an  engaging  easlnesf 


*f^'-  «*•  SAVAGE.  137 

It  is  melancholy  to  reflect,  that  Johusou  and  Savage  were  some- 
times in  such  extreme  indigence/  that  they  could  not  pay  for  a  lodg- 
ing ;  so  that  they  have  wandered  together  whole  nights  in  the 
streets "  Yet  in  these  almost  incredible  scenes  of  distress,  we  may 
suppose  that  Savage  mentioned  many  of  the  anecdotes  with  which 
Johnson  afterwards  enriched  the  life  of  his  unhappy  companion,  and 
those  of  other  poets. 

He  told  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  that  one  night  in  particular,  when 
Savage  and  he  walked  round  St.  James's  Square  for  want  of  a  lodg- 
ing, they  were  not  at  all  depressed  by  their  situation  ;  but,  in  high 
spirits  and  brimful  of  patriotism,  traversed  the  square  for  several 
hours,  inveighed  against  the  minister,  and  "  resolved  they  would 
stand  by  their  countryP 

I  am  afraid,  however,  that  by  associating  with  Savage,  who  was 
habituated  to  the  dissipation  and  licentiousness  of  the  town,  Johnson, 
though  his  good  principles  remained  steady,  did  not  entirely  pre- 
serve that  conduct,  for  which,  in  days  of  greater  simplicity,  he  was 
remarked  by  his  friend  Mr.  Hector  ;  but  was  imperceptibly  led  into 


of  manners."    How  highly  Johnson  admired  him  for  that  knowledge  which  he  himself  so 

much  cultivated,  and  what  kindness  he  entertained  for  him,  appears  from  the  following  lines 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  April,  1738,  which  1  am  assured  were  written  by  Johnson  : — 

"  Ad  Ricardum  Savage. 

♦'  HumoMi  studiwin  generis  cut  pectore/ervet 

0  colat  humami/m  te  foveaique  genus." 

1  The  following  striking  proof  of  Johnson's  extreme  indigence,  when  he  published  the 
Life  of  Savage,  was  communicated  to  Mr.  Boswell,  by  Mr.  Richard  Stowe,  of  Apsley,  in  Bed- 
fordshire, from  the  information  of  Mr.  Walter  Harte,  author  of  the  Life  of  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus  : — "  Soon  after  Savage's  Life  was  published,  Mr.  Harte  dined  with  Edward  Cave,  and 
occasionally  praistd  it.  Soon  after,  meeting  him.  Cave  said,  '  You  made  a  man  very  happy 
t'other  day.'^'  How  could  that  be  ?'  says  Harte  ;  '  nobody  was  there  but  ourselves.'  Cave 
answered,  by  reminding  him  that  a  plate  of  victuals  was  sent  behind  a  screen,  which  was  to 
Johnson,  dressed  so  shabbily,  that  he  did  not  choose  to  appear  ;  but,  on  hearing  the  conver- 
sation, he  was  h'ghly  delighted  with  the  encomiums  on  his  book." — Malone. 

*  As  Johnson  was  married  before  he  settled  in  London,  and  must  have  always  had  n 
habitation  for  his  wife,  some  readers  have  wondered  how  he  ever  could  have  been  driven  to 
stroll  about  with  Savage,  all  night,  for  want  of  a  lodging.  But  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
Johnson,  at  different  periods,  had  lodgings  in  the  vicinity  of  London  ;  and  his  finances 
certainly  would  not  admit  of  a  double  establishment.  When,  therefore,  he  spent  a  convivial 
day  in  London,  and  found  it  too  late  to  return  to  any  country  residence  he  may  occasionally 
have  had,  having  no  lodging  in  town,  he  was  obliged  to  pass  the  night  in  the  manner 
described  above  ;  for  though,  at  that  period,  it  was  not  uncommon  for  two  men  to  sleep 
kogether,  Savage,  it  appears,  could  accommodate  h'ln  with  nothing  but  his  company  in  tha 
•pen  air. — Malosb. 


138  LIFE   OP  JOHNSOI^.  1^44. 

some  indulgences  which  occasioned  much  distress  to  his  virtuous 
mind.* 

That  Johnson  was  anxious  that  an  authentic  and  favourable 
account  of  his  extraordinary  friend  should  first  get  possession  of  the 
public  attention,  is  evident  from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  in  the  Gen- 
tleman's Magazine  for  August  of  the  year  preceding  its  publication. 

Letter  16.  TO  MR.  UEBAN. 

"  As  your  collections  show  how  oflen  you  have  owed  the  ornaments  of  your 
pocticnl  piiges  to  the  correspondence  of  the  unfortunate  and  ingenious  Mr. 
Savage,  I  doubt  not  but  you  have  so  much  regard  to  his  memory  as  to  encou 
rage  any  design  that  may  have  a  tendency  to  the  preservation  of  it  from 
insults  or  calumnies ;  and  therefore,  with  some  degree  of  assurance,  intreat 
you  to  inform  the  public,  that  his  Life  will  speedily  be  published  by  a  person 
who  was  favoured  with  his  confidence,  and  received  from  himself  an  account 
of  most  of  the  transactions  which  he  proposes  to  mention,  to  the  time  of  hie 
retirement  to  Swansea  in  Wales. 

"  From  that  period,  to  his  death  in  the  prison  of  Bristol,  the  account  will  be 
continued  from  materials  still  less  liable  to  objection ;  his  own  letters,  and 
those  of  his  friends,  some  of  which  will  be  inserted  in  the  work,  and  abstracts 
of  others  subjoined  in  the  margin. 

"  It  may  be  reasonably  imagined,  that  others  may  have  the  same  design  ; 
but  as  it  is  not  credible  that  they  can  obtain  the  same  materials,  it  must  be 
expected  they  will  supply  from  invention  the  want  of  intelligence  ;  and  that, 
under  the  title  of  '  The  Life  of  Savage,'  they  will  publish  only  a  novel,  filled 


1  We  are  to  remember,  that  Johnson  was,  at  this  time,  a  husband:  can  it,  therefore,  be 
supposed  that  the  society  of  such  a  man  as  Savage  had  any  tendency  to  improve  him  in  the 
exercise  of  the  domestic  virtues  ?  Nay  rather  we  must  doubt  it,  and  ascribe  to  an  indifference 
in  the  discharge  of  them,  arising  from  their  nocturnal  excursions,  the  incident  of  a  temporary 
separation  of  Johnson  from  his  wife,  wliich  soon  tooli  place  ;  and  that,  while  he  was  in  a 
lodging  in  Fleet  street,  she  was  harboured  by  a  friend  near  the  Tower.  It  is  true  that  this 
separation  continued  but  a  short  time  ;  and  that  if,  indeed,  his  affection,  at  that  instant,  was 
alienated  from  her,. it  soon  returned.— Hawkins. 

Sir  John  Hawkins  very  uncharitably  attributes  to  the  influence  of  Savage,  a  separation 
which  toolc  place  {as  he  alone  asserts)  between  Johnson  and  his' wife  about  this  period.  Thia 
separation  (if  Hawkins  be  even  so  far  correct)  may  be  explained  without  any  reference  to 
Savage.  The  whole  course  of  Johnson's  life  and  conduct  warrants  us  in  supposing  that  thia 
temporary  separation  was  produced  by  pecuniary  distress,  and  not  by  an  interruption  of 
affection.  Johnson  would  be  naturally  solicitous  that  his  wife  should  find  in  her  own  family 
a  temporary  refuge  from  the  want  with  which  he  was  struggling.  There  is  nowhere  to  be 
found  a  single  trace  to  justify  the  accusation  which  Hawkins  so  wantonly,  and  so  odiously, 
and,  it  may  be  assumed,  so  falsely  makes.  Johnson's  fate,  in  this  particular,  is  a  Uttlo  hard  : 
be  is  at  on;e  ridiculed  for  being  extravagantly  uxorious,  and  censured  for  a  profligate  disre- 
gard of  his  wife  — Crokrk. 


'^■'■^■''-  "'^-  LIFE    OF    SAVAGE.  l3g 

with  romantic  ailventures  aud  imaginary  amours.  You  may  therefore,  perhaps, 
gratify  the  lovers  of  truth  and  wit,  by  giving  me  leave  to  inform  them  in  your 
Magazine,  that  my  account  will  be  published  in  8vo,  by  Mr.  Roberts,  in  War- 
wick Lane." 

[iVb  signature.^ 

In  February,  1744,  it  accordingly  came  forth  from  the  shop  of 
Roberts,  betvA'eeu  whom  and  Johnson  I  have  not  traced  any  connec- 
tion, except  the  casual  one  of  this  publication.'  In  Johnson's  "  Life 
of  Savage,"  although  it  must  be  allowed  that  its  moral  is  the  re- 
verse of — "Iicspi(X)-e  exemplar  vitcc  mnrumqne  jitbeho,''  a  very  useful 
lesson  is  inculcated,  to  guai'd  men  of  warm  passions  from  a  too  free 
indulgence  of  them  ;  and  the  various  incidents  are  related  in  so  clear 
HTul  animated  a  manner,  and  illuminated  throughout  with  so  much 
philosophy,  tliat  it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  narratives  in  the 
English  language.'''  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  told  me,  that  upon  his 
return  from  Italy  he  met  with  it  in  Devonshire,  knowing  nothing  of 
its  author,  and  began  to  read  it  while  he  was  standing  with  his  arm 
leaning  against  a  ciiimney-piece.  It  seized  his  attention  so  strongly, 
that,  not  being  able  to  lay  down  the  book  till  he  had  finished  it, 
when  he  attempted  to  move,  he  found  his  arm  totally  benumbed. 
The  rapidity  with  which  this  work  was  composed,  is  a  wonderful 
circumstance.  Johnson  has  been  heard  to  say  [Aug.  19,  1173], 
"  I  wrote  forty-eight  of  the  printed  octavo  pages  of  the  Life  of 
Savage  at  a  sitting  ;  but  then  I  sat  up  all  night." 

'  There  seeins  reason  to  suppose  that  Cave  sometimes  permitted  the  name  of  ano- 
ther printer  to  appear  on  the  title-pages  of  books  of  which  he  was,  in  fact,  the  publisher.  In 
this  case  the  fact  is  certain  ;  as  it  appears  from  the  letter  tro  Cave,  August,  1T43,  that  Johnson 
sold  the  work  to  liim  even  before  it  was  written. — Ckoker. 

Cave  was  the  purchaser  of  the  copyright,  and  the  following  is  a  copy  of  Johnson's  receipt 
for  the  money  : — "  The  14th  day  of  December,  received  of  Mr.  Ed.  Cave,  the  sum  of  fifteen 
guineas,  in  full,  for  compiling  and  writing  '  The  Life  of  Richard  Savage,  Esq.,'  deceased  ;  and 
in  full  for  all  materials  thereto  applied,  and  not  found  by  the  said  Edward  Cave.  I  say, 
received  by  me,  Sam.  Johnson.    Dec.  14, 1743." 

"  It  gives,  like  Kaphael's  Lazarus  or  Murillo's  Beggar,  pleasure  as  a  work  of  art,  while  the 
original  could  only  excite  disgust.  Johnson  has  spread  over  Savage's  character  the  varnish, 
or  rather  the  veil,  of  stately  diction  an^  extenuatory  phrases,  but  cannot  prevent  the 
observant  reader  from  seeing  that  the  subject  of  this  biographical  essay  was,  as  Mr.  Boswell 
calls  him,  "  an  ungrateful  and  insolent  profligate  ;"  and  so  little  do  his  works  show  of  that 
poatical  talent  for  which  he  has  been  celebrated,  that,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Johnson's 
embalming  partiality,  his  worlis  would  probably  be  now  as  unheard  of  as  they  are  unread. — 
Oroker. 


140  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON,  ^^^4, 

He  exhibits  the  genius  of  Savage  to  the  best  advantage,  in  the 
specimens  of  his  poetry  which  he  has  selected,  some  of  which  are 
of  uncommon  merit.  We,  indeed,  occasionally  find  such  vigour  and 
such  point,  as  might  make  us  suppose  that  the  generous  aid  of 
Johnson  had  been  imparted  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  Warton 
hiade  this  remark  to  me;  and,  in  support  of  it,  quoted  from  the 
poem  entitled,  "  The  Bastard,"  a  line  in  which  the  fancied  superior- 
ity of  one  "stamped  in  Nature's  mint  with  extasy,"  is  contrasted 
with  a  regular  lawful  descendant  of  some  great  and  ancient  family  : 

"  rfo  tenth  transmitter  of  a  foolish  face." 

But  the  fact  is,  that  this  poem  was  published  some  years  before 
Johnson  and  Savage  were  acquainted. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  in  this  biographical  disquisition  there 
appears  a  very  strong  symptom  of  Johnson's  prejudice  against 
players;  a  prejudice  which  may  be  attributed  to  the  following 
causes:  first,  the  imperfection  of  his  organs,  which  were  so  defec- 
tive that  he  was  not  susceptible  of  the  fine  impressions  which  thea- 
trical excellence  produces  upon  the  generality  of  mankind;  secondly, 
the  cold  rejection  of  his  tragedy ;  and,  lastly,  the  brilliant  success  of 
Garrick,  who  had  been  his  pupil,  who  had  come  to  London  at  the 
same  time  with  him,  not  in  a  much  more  prosperous  state  than  him- 
self, and  whose  talents  he  undoubtedly  rated  low,  compared  with  his 
own.  His  being  outstripped  by  his  pupil  in  the  race  of  immediate 
fame,  as  well  as  of  fortune,  probably  made  him  feel  some  indigna- 
tion, as  thinking,  that  whatever  might  be  Garrick's  merits  in  his  art, 
the  reward  was  too  great  when  compared  with  what  the  most  suc- 
cessful efforts  of  literary  labour  could  attain.  At  all  periods  of  his 
life,  Johnson  used  to  talk  contemptuously  of  players;*  but  in  this 
work  he  speaks  of  them  with  peculiar  acrimony;  for  which,  perhaps, 

1  It  is  another  of  those  remarkable  inconsistencies  in  Johnson's  character,  before  alluded 
to,  that  as  the  first  publication  of  this  determined  admirer  of  the  metropolis  was  a  satire  on 
Loudon,  so  the  first  production  of  this  despiser  of  the  stage  should  be  a  play !  Mr.  Boswell  is 
obliged  to  admit  what  was  too  obvious  to  be  concealed — but  he  does  so  with  reluctance  and 
gieat  tenderness  of  expression^that  Dr.  Johnson  enmed  Garrick,  and  we  shall  see  that  he 
even  envied  Sheridan,  and  to  this  source  must,  we  fear,  be  attributed  his  "indignation" 
against  players.  This  is  no  doubt  a  blot  on  Johnson's  character,  and  we  have  seen,  and  sbal) 
see,  too  many  instances  of  this  infirmity. — Crokeb. 


*'*■'•  ^-  SAVAG  E GARRiCK.  j  4  1 

Ihere  was  formerly  too  much  reason,  from  the  licentious  au4  disso- 
lute manners  of  those  engaged  in  that  profession.  It  is  bat  justice 
to  add,  that  in  our  own  time  such  a  change  has  taken  place,  that 
there  is  no  longer  room  for  such  an  unfavourable  distinction. 

Ilis  schoolfellow  and  friend.  Dr.  Taylor,  told  me  a  pleasant  anec- 
dote of  Johnson's  triumphing  over  his  pupil,  David  Garrick.  When 
that  great  actor  had  played  some  little  time  at  Goodman's  Fields, 
Johnson  and  Taylor  went  to  see  him  perform,  and  afterwards  passed 
the  evening  at  a  tavern  with  him  and  old  Giffard.  Johnson,  who 
was  ever  depreciating  stage-players,  after  censuring  some  mistakes  in 
emphasis,  which  Garrick  had  committed  in  the  course  of  that  night's 
acting,  said,  "  The  players,  sir,  have  got  a  kind  of  rant,  with  which 
they  run  on,  without  any  regard  either  to  accent  or  emphasis." 
Both  Garrick  and  Giffard  were  offended  at  this  sarcasm,  and  endea- 
voured to  refute  it;  upon  which  Johnson  rejoined,  "  Well  now,  I'll 
give  you  something  to  speak,  with  which  you  are  little  acquainted, 
and  then  we  shall  see  how  just  my  observation  is.  That  shall  be 
the  criterion.  Let  me  hear  you  repeat  the  ninth  Commandment, 
'  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against  thy  neighbour.' "  Both 
tried  at  it,  said  Dr.  Taylor,  and  both  mj^itook  the  emphasis,  w-hich 
should  be  upon  not  and  false  witness}  Johnson  put  them  right,  and 
enjoyed  his  victory  with  great  glee. 

His  "  Life  of  Savage"'  was  no  sooner  published,  than  the  follow- 
ing liberal  praise  was  given  to  it,  in  "  The  Champion,"  a  periodical 
paper  : 

"  This  pamphlet  is,  without  flattery  to  its  author,  as  just  and  well  written  a 
piece  of  its  kind  as  I  ever  saw ;  so  that  at  the  same  time  that  it  highly  deserves, 
it  certainly  stands  very  Httle  in  need  of  this  recommendation.  As  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  unfortunate  person,  whose  memoirs  compose  this  work,  it  is  cer- 
tainly penned  with  equal  accuracy  and  spirit,  of  which  I  am  so  much  the 
better  judge,  as  I  know  many  of  the  facts  mentioned  to  be  sti'ictly  true,  and 
very  fairly  related.  Besides,  it  is  not  only  the  story  of  Mr.  Savage,  but  innu- 
merable incidents  relating  to  other  persons,  and  other  affairs,  which  rendera 

'I  suspect  Dr.  Ta}-lor  was  inaccurate  in  this  statement.  The  emphasis  should  be  equaJly 
npon  shalt  and  not,  as  both  concur  to  form  the  negative  injunction  ;  and  false  witness,  Iik» 
other  acts  prohibited  in  the  Decalogue,  should  not  be  marked  by  any  peculiar  emphasis,  tjut 
only  be  distinctly  enunciated.— Boswell. 


1 4^  T,TFE    OF    JOHNSON.  *''** 

this  a  very  amusing,  and,  withal,  a  very  instructive  and  valuable  pcrformacce. 
The  author's  observations  are  short,  significant,  and  just,  as  his  narrative  is 
remarkably  smooth  and  well  disposed.  His  reflections  open  to  all  the  recesses 
of  the  human  heart;  and,  in  a  word,  a  more  just  or  pleasant,  a  more  engaging 
or  a  more  improving  treatise,  on  all  the  excellencies  and  defects  of  human 
nature,  is  scai'cc  to  be  found  in  our  own,  or,  perhaps,  any  other  language." 

Johnson's  partiality  for  Savage  made  him  entertain  no  doubt  of 
his  story,  however  extraordinary  and  improbable.  It  never  occurred 
to  him  to  question  his  being  the  son  of  the  Countess  of  Macclesfield, 
of  whose  unrelenting  barbarity  he  so  loudly  complained,  and  the 
particulars  of  which  are  related  in  so  strong  and  affecting  a  manner 
in  Johnson's  life  of  him.  Johnson  was  certainly  well  warranted  iu 
publishing  his  narrative,  however  offensive  it  might  be  to  the  lady 
and  her  relations  ;  because  her  alleged  unnatural  and  cruel  conduct 
to  her  son,  and  shameful  avowal  of  guilt,  were  stated  in  a  Life  of 
Savage  now  lying  before  me,  which  came  out  so  early  as  172t,  and 
no  attempt  had  been  made  to  confute  it,  or  to  punish  the  author  or 
printer  as  a  libeller  :  but  for  the  honour  of  human  nature,  we  should 
be  glad  to  find  the  shocking  tale  not  true  ;  and  from  a  respectable 
gentleman  connected  with  ^the  lady's  family,  I  have  received  such 
information  and  remarks,  as,  joined  to  my  own  inquiries,  will,  I 
think,  render  it  at  least  somewhat  doubtful,  especially  when  we  con- 
sider that  it  must  have  originated  from  the  person  himself  who  went 
by  the  name  of  Richard  Savage. 

If  the  maxhn,  falsum  in  nno,  falsum  in  omnibus,  were  to  be 
received  without  qnalification,  the  credit  of  Savage's  narrative,  as 
conveyed  to  us,  would  be  annihilated  : — for  it  contains  some  asser- 
tions which,  beyond  a  question,  are  not  true. 

1.  In  order  to  induce  a  belief  that  the  Earl  of  Rivers — on  account 
of  a  criminal  connection  with  wdiora,  Lady  Macclesfield  is  said  la 
have  been  divorced  from  her  husband,  by  act  of  parliament  [1691 ) 
—had  a  peculiar  anxiety  about  the  child  which  she  bore  to  him,  it  is 
alleged,  that  his  Lordship  gave  him  his  own  name,  and  had  it  duly 
recorded  in  the  register  of  St.  Andrew's,  Holburn.  I  have  carefully 
inspected  that  register,  but  no  such  entry  is  to  be  found. 

2.  It  is  stated  that  "  Lady  Macclesfield,,  having  lived  for  some 
time  upon  very  uneasy  terms  with  her  husband,  thought  a  public 


^"-  ^-  SAVAGE.  143 

confession  of  adultery  the  most  obvious  and  expeditious  method  of 
obtaining  her  liberty  ;"  and  Johnson,  assuming  this  to  be  true,  stig- 
matises her  with  indignn.tion,  as  "  the  wretch  who  had,  without 
scruple,  proclaimed  herself  an  adultress."  But  I  have  perused  the 
Journals  of  both  houses  of  Parliament  at  the  period  of  her  divorce, 
and  there  find  it  authentically  ascertained,  that  so  far  from  volun- 
tarily submitting  to  the  ignominious  charge  of  adultery,  she  made  a 
strenuous  defence  by  her  Counsel  ;  the  bill  having  been  first  moved 
the  15th  of  January,  1697-8,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  proceeded 
on  (with  various  applications  for  time  to  bring  up  witnesses  at  a 
distance,  etc.,)  at  intervals,  till  the  3d  of  March,  when  it  passed. 
It  was  brought  to  the  Commons,  by  a  message  from  the  Lords,  the 
5th  of  March,  proceeded  on  the  Ith,  10th,  11th,  14th,  and  15th,  on 
which  day,  after  a  full  examination  of  witnesses  on  both  sides,  and 
hearing  of  Counsel,  it  was  reported  without  amendments,  passed,  and 
carried  to  the  Lords. 

That  Lady  Macclesfield  was  convicted  of  the  crime  of  which  she 
was  accused,  cannot  be  denied  ;  but  the  question  now  is,  whether 
the  pei'son  calling  himself  Richard  Savage  was  her  son. 

It  has  been  said,^  that  when  Earl  Rivers  was  dying,  and  anxious 
to  provide  for  all  his  natural  children,  he  was  informed  by  Lady 
Macclesfield,  that  her  son  by  him  was  dead.  Whether,  then,  shall 
we  believe  that  this  was  a  malignant  lie,  invented  by  a  mother  to 
prevent  her  own  child  from  receiving  the  bounty  of  his  father, 
which  was  accordingly  the  consequence,  if  the  person  whose  life 
Johnson  wrote  was  her  son  ;  or  shall  we  not  rather  believe  that  the 
person  who  then  assumed  the  name  of  Richard  Savage  w^as  an 
impostor,  being  in  reality  the  son  of  the  shoemaker,  under  whose 
wife's  care  ^  Lady  Macclesfield's  child  was  placed  ;  that  after  the 
death  of  the  real  Richard  Savage,  he  attempted  to  personate  him  ; 
and  that  the  fraud  being  known  to  Lady  Macclesfield,  he  was  there- 
fore repulsed  by  her  with  just  resentment. 

There  is'a  strong  circumstance  in  support  of  the  last  supposition  ; 
though  it  has  been  mentioned  as  an  aggravation  of  Lady  Maccles- 

'  By  Johnson,  in  his  Life  of  Savage. — Malone. 

*  This,  as  an  accurate  friend  remarks  te  me,  is  not  correctly  stated.  The  shoemaker 
Dnder  whose  care  Savage  was  placed,  with  a  view  to  his  becoming  his  apprentice,  was  npt  tbv 
bosband  of  his  nurse.    See  Johnson's  Life  of  Savage  — J.  Boswell,  jun. 


144  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  1744, 

field's  unnatural  conduct,  and  that  is,  her  having  prevented  him 
from  obtaining  the  benefit  of  a  legacy  left  to  him  by  Mrs.  Lloyd,  his 
godmother.  For  if  there  was  such  a  legacy  left,  his  not  being 
able  to  obtain  payment  of  it,  must  be  imputed  to  his  consciousness 
that  ne  was  not  the  real  person.  The  just  inference  should  be,  that 
by  the  death  of  Lady  Macclesfield's  child  before  its  godmother, 
the  legacy  became  lapsed,  and  therefore  that  Johnson's  Richard 
Savage  was  an  impostor. 

If  he  liad  a  title  to  the  legacy,  he  could  not  have  found  any  diffi- 
culty in  recovering  it ;  for  had  the  executors  resisted  his  claim,  the 
whole  costs,  as  well  as  tlie  legacy,  must  have  been  paid  by  them,  if 
he  had  been  the  child  to  whom  it  was  given. 

The  talents  of  Savage,  and  the  mingled  fire,  rudeness,  pride, 
meanness,  and  ferocity  of  his  character,'  concur  in  making  it  credi- 
ble that  he  was  fit  to  plan  and  carry  on  an  ambitious  and  daring 
scheme  of  imposture,  similar  instances  of  which  have  not  been 
wanting  in  higher  spheres,  in  the  history  of  different  countries,  and 
have  had  a  considerable  degree  of  success. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  companion  of  Johnson  (who, 
through  whatever  medium  he  was  conveyed  into  this  world,  be  it 
ever  so  doubtful,  "  to  whom  related,  or  by  whom  begot,"  was, 
unquestionably,  a  man  of  no  common  endowments),  we  must  allow 
the  weight  of  general  repute  as  to  his  Status  or  parentage,  though 
illicit ;  and  supposing  him  to  be  an  impostor,  it  seems  strange  that 
Lord  Tyrconnel,  the  nephew  of  Lady  Macclesfield,  should  patronise 
him,  and  even  admit  him  as  a  guest  in  his  family.*     Lastly,  it  must 

1  Johnson's  companion  appears  to  have  persuaded  that  lofty-minded  man,  that  he  resem- 
bled him  in  having  a  noble  pride;  for  Johnson,  after  painting  in  strong  colours  the  quarrel 
between  Lord  Tyrconnel  and  Savage,  asserts  that  "  the  spirit  of  Mr.  Savage,  indeed,  never 
suffered  him  to  solicit  a  reconciliation :  he  returned  reproach  for  reproach,  and  insult  for 
insult."  But  the  respectable  gentleman  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  has  in  his  possession  a  let- 
ter from  Savage,  after  Lord  Tyrconnel  had  discarded  him,  addressed  to  the  Rev,  Mr.  Gilbert, 
his  Lordship's  chaplain,  in  which  he  requests  him,  in  the  humblest  manner,  to  represent  his 
case  to  the  Viscount. 

^  Trusting  to  Savage's  information,  Johnson  represents  this  unhappy  man's  being  received 
as  a  companion  by  Lord  Tyrconnel,  and  pensioned  by  his  Lordship,  as  posterior  to  Savage's 
conviction  and  pardon.  But  I  am  assured,  that  Savage  had  received  the  voluntary  bounty 
of  Lord  Tyrconnel,  and  had  been  dismissed  by  him  long  before  the  murder  was  committed, 
bed  that  his  lordship  was  very  instrumental  in  procuring  Savage's  pardon,  by  his  intercession 
with  the  Queen,  through  Lady  Hertford.  If,  therefore,  he  had  been  desirous  of  preventing 
ibe  publication  by  Savage,  he  would  have  left  him  to  his  fate.     Indeed,  I  must  observe,  that 


■^TAT.85.  .  SAVAGE.  145 

ever  appear  very  suspicious,  that  three  different  accounts  of  the  Life 
of  Kichard  Savage, — one  publislied  in  "  The  Plain  Dealer,"  in  1124, 
another  in  1*127,  and  another  by  the  powerful  pen  of  Johnson,  in 
1744  ; — and  all  of  them  while  Lady  Macclesfield  was  alive,*  should, 
notwithstanding  the  severe  attacks  upon  her,  have  been  suffered  to 
pass  without  any  public  and  effectual  contradiction. 

I  have  thusjendeavoured  to  sum  up  the  evidence  upon  the  case,  as 
fairly  as  I  can  ;  and  the  result  seems  to  be,  that  the  world  must 
ribrate  in  a  .state  of  uncertainty  as  to  wliat  was  the  truth 

This  digression,  I  trust,  will  not  be  censured,  as  it  relates  to  a 
matter  exceedingly  curious,  and  very  iiitinuitcly  connected  with 
Johnson,  both  as  a  man  and  an  author. 

He  this  year  wrote  the  "  Preface  to  the  Harleian  Miscellany."  * 
The  selection  of  the  pamphlets  of  which  it  was  composed  was  made 
by  Mr.  Oldys,  a  man  of  eager  curiosity,  and  indefatigable  diligence, 
who  first  exerted  that  spirit  of  inquiry  into  the  literature  of  the  old 
English  writers,  by  which  the  works  of  our  great  dramatic  poet  have 
of  late  been  so  signally  illustrated. 

although  Johnson  mentions  that  Lord  Tyrconnel's  patronage  of  Savage  was  "  upon  his  pro- 
mise to  lay  aside  his  design  of  exposing  the  cruelty  of  his  mother,"  the  great  biographer  has 
forgotten  that  he  himself  has  mentioned,  that  Savage's  story  has  been  told  several  years  before 
in  "  The  Plain  Dealer;"  from  which  he  quotes  this  strong  saying  of  the  generous  Sir  Richard 
Steele,  that  the  "  inhumanity  of  his  mother  had  given  him  a  right  to  find  every  good  man  his 
f.ither."  At  the  same  time  it  "must  be  acknowledged,  that  Lady  Macclesfield  and  her  relation?, 
might  still  wish  that  her  story  should  not  be  brought  into  more  conspicuous  notice  by 
the  satirical  pen  of  Savage. 

'  Miss  Mason,  after  having  forfeited  the  title  of  Lady  Macclesfield  by  divorce,  was  mar- 
ried to  Colonel  Brett,  and,  it  is  said,  was  well  known  in  all  the  polite  circles.  Colley  Cibber, 
I  am  informed,  had  so  high  an  opinion  of  her  taste  and  judgment  as  to  genteel  life  and  man- 
ners, that  he  submitted  every  scene  of  his  "  Careless  Husband  "  to  Mrs.  Brett's  revisal  and 
correction.  Colonel  Brett  was  reported  to  be  free  in  his  gallantry  with  his  lady's  maid.  Mrs. 
Brett  came  into  a  room  one  day  in  her  own  house,  and  found  the  Colonel  and  her  maid  both 
fast  asleep  in  two  chairs.  She  tied  a  white  handkerchief  round  her  husband's  neck,  which  was 
a  sufficient  proof  that  she  had  discovered  his  intrigue;  but  she  never  at  any  time  took  noti.-« 
of  it  to  him.  This  incident,  as  I  am  told,  gave  occasion  to  the  well-wrought  scene  of  t«i 
Charles  and  Lady  Easy,  and  Kdging. — Boswkll. 


VOL.    I. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

1U5— 1149.  * 

"  Miscellaneous  Observations  on  Macbeth,"  and  "  Proposals  for  a  new  Edition  of  Bbak*' 
f  leare " — "Prologue,  spoken  by  Garrick,  on  the  opening  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre" — 
Prospectus  of  the  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language — Progress  of  the  Work — King's  Head 
Club  in  Ivy  Lane — Visit  to  TuiibriJge  Wells — "  Life  of  Roscommon  " — "  Preface  to  Dods- 
ley's  Preceptor  " — "  Vision  of  Theodore  the  Hermit  " — "  The  Vanity  of  Human  AVishes  " — 
"  Irene  "  acted  at  Drury  Lane. 

In  1*145,  he  published  a  pamphlet  entitled,  "Miscellaneous  Obser- 
vations on  tlie  Tragedy  of  Macbeth,  with  Remarks  on  Sir  T.  H/s 
(Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's)  Edition  of  Shakspeare,"  *  to  which  he 
affixed,  Proposals  for  a  new  edition  of  that  poet. 

As  we  do  not  trace  anything  else  published  by  him  during  the 
course  of  this  year,  we  may  conjecture  that  he  was  occupied  entirely 
with  that  work.  But  the  little  encouragement  which  was  given  by 
the  public  to  iiis  anonymous  proposals  for  the  execution  of  a  task 
which  Warburton  was  known  to  have  undertaken,  probably  damped 
his  ardour.  His  pamphlet,  however,  was  highly  esteemed,  and  was 
fortunate  enough  to  obtain  the  approbation  even  of  the  supercilious 
Warburton  himself,  who,  in  the  Preface  to  his  Shakspeare,  pub- 
lished two  years  afterwards,  thus  mentioned  it  :  "  As  to  all  those 
things  which  have  been  published  under  th^  titles  of  Essays,  Re- 
marks, Observations,  etc.,  on  Shakspeare.  if  you  except  some  Critical 
Notes  on  Macbeth,  given  as  a  specimen  of  a  projected  edition,  and 
written,  as  appears,  by  a  man  of  parts  and  genius,  the  rest  are  abso- 
lutely below  a  serious  notice." 

Of  this  flattering  distinction  shown  to  him  by  Warburton,  a  ve'-y 
grateful  remembrance  was  ever  entertained  by  Johnson,  who  said, 
"  He  praised  me  at  a  time  when  praise  was  of  value  to  me." 

In  174G,  it  is  probable  that  he  was  still  employed  upon  his  Shaks- 
peare, which  perhaps  he  laid  aside  for  a  time,  upon  account  of  the 
high  expectations  which  were  fo'-oied  of  Warburton's  edition  of  that 


^^^'^^  ^^-  gentleman's  magazine.  lit 

great  poet.  It  is  somewhat  curious,  that  bis  literary  career  ap- 
pears to  have  been  almost  totally  suspended  in  the  years  1745  and 
1T46,  those  years  which  were  marked  by  a  civil  war  in  Great 
Britain,  when  a  rash  attempt  was  made  to  restore  the  House  of 
Stuart  to  the  throne.  That  he  had  a  tenderness  for  that  unfortu- 
nate House,  is  well  known;  and  some  may  fancifully  imagine,  that  a 
sympathetic  ai^iety  impeded  the  exertion  of  his  intellectual  powers:' 
but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  was,  during  this  time,  sketching 
the  outlines  of  his  great  philological  work. 

None  of  his  letters  during  those  years,  are  extant,  so  far  as  I  can 
discover.  This  is  much  to  be  regretted.  It  might  afford  some 
entertainment  to  see  how  he  then  expressed  himself  to  his  private 
friends  concerning  State  affairs.  Dr.  Adams  informs  me,  that  "  at 
this  time  a  favourite  object  which  he  had  in  contemplation  was  '  The 
Life  of  Alfred  ;'  in  which,  from  the  warmth  with  which  he  spoke 
about  it,  he  would,  I  believe,  had  he  been  master  of  his  own  will, 
engaged  himself,  rather  than  on  any  other  subject." 

In  1141,  it  is  supposed  tliat  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  May 
was  enriched  by  him  with  five  short  poetical  pieces,  distinguished 
by  three  asterisks.  The  first  is  a  translation,  or  rather  a  para- 
phrase, of  a  Latin  Epitaph  on  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.  Whether  the 
Latin  was  his  or  not,  I  have  never  heard,  though  I  should  think  it 
probably  was,  if  it  be  certain  that  he  wrote  the  English  ;  as  to 
which  my  only  cause  of  doubt  is,  that  his  slighting  the  character  ot 
Ilanmer  as  an  editor,  in  his  "  Observations  on  Macbeth,"  is  very 
different  from  that  in  the  Epitaph.  It  may  be  said,  that  there  is  the 
same  contrariety  between  the  character  in  the  Observations,  and 
that  in  his  own  Preface  to  Shakspcare ;  but  a  considerable  time 
elapsed  between  tlie  one  publication  and  the  other,  whereas,  the 
Observations  and  the  Epitaph  came  close  together.  The  others 
are,  "  To  Miss ,  on  her  giving  the  Author  a  gold  and  silk  net- 
work Purse  of  her  own  weaving  ;"  "  Stella  in  Mourning  ;"   "  The 

•  In  the  Garrick  Correspondence,  there  is  a  letter  from  Gilbert  Walmesley,  dated  Nov.  3, 
1746,  which  contains  this  passage :— "  When  you  see  Mr.  Jolinson,  pray  give  my  comi.liments, 
ind  tell  liim  I  esteem  him  as  a  great  genius — quite  lofit,hoth  to  himself  and  the  world.^ 
I  pon  which  the  Editor  observes,  "It  is  obvious  that  Walmesley  had  been  anxiously  expect- 
jig  from  his  friend,  performances  adequate  to  liis  powers,  but  at  length  almost  despaired,  that 
ae  could  ever  be  roused  to  useful  strenuous  exertion  of  his  ti»ue." 


i48  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "*^- 

Winter's  Walk;"  "  An  Ode;"  and,  "  To  Lyce,  an  elderly  Lady.''  I 
am  not  positive  that  all  these  were  his  productions  ; '  but  as  "  The 
Winter's  Walk  "  has  never  been  controverted  to  be  his,  and  all  of 
them  have  the  same  mark,  it  is  reasonable  to  conclude  that  they  are 
all  written  by  the  same  hand.  Yet  to  the  Ode,  in  which  we  find  a 
passage  very  characteristic  of  him,  being  a  learned  description  of 
the  gout, 

"  Unhappy,  whom  to  beds  of  pain, 
Arthritic/c  tyranny  consigns ; 

there  is  the  following  note,  "  The  author  being  ill  of  the  gout :"  but 
Johnson  was  not  attacked  with  that  distemper  till  a  very  late  period 
of  his  life.  May  not  this,  however,  be  a  poetical  fiction  ?  Why 
may  not  a  poet  suppose  himself  to  have  the  gout,  as  well  as  to  sup- 
pose himself  to  be  in  love,  of  which  we  have  innumerable  instances, 
and  which  has  been  admirably  ridiculed  by  Johnson  in  his  "  Life  of 
Cowley  ?"  I  have  also  some  difficulty  to  believe  that  he  could  pro- 
duce such  a  group  of  conceits  as  appear  in  the  verses  to  Lyce,  in 
which  he  claims  for  this  ancient  personage  as  good  a  right  to  be 
assimilated  to  heaven,  as  nymphs  whom  other  poets  have  flattered  ; 
he  therefore  ironically  ascribes  to  her  the  attributes  of  the  sky,  in 
Buch  stanzas  as  this  : 

"  Her  teeth  the  night  with  darkness  dies, 
She's  starr'd  witli  pimples  o'er; 
Iler  tongue  like  nimble  lightning  plies, 
And  can  with  thunder  roar." 

1  In  the  "  Universal  Visiter,"  to  which  Johnson  contributed,  the  mark  which  Is  affixed  to 
gome  pieces  unquestionably  his,  is  also  found  subjoined  to  others,  of  which  he  certainly  waa 
not  the  author.  The  mark,  therefore,  will  not  ascertain  the  poems  in  question  to  have  been 
written  by  him.  Some  of  them  were  probably  the  productions  of  Hawkesworth,  who,  it  is 
believed,  was  afflicted  with  the  gout.  The  verses  on  a  Purse  were  inserted  afterwards,  in 
Mrs.  Williams's  Miscellanies,  and  are,  unquestionably,  Johnson's." — Malone. 

There  is  no  evidence  whatever  that  any  of  these  were  Johnson's,  and  every  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  they  are  Hawkesworth's.  The  ode  which  Boswell  doubts  about,  on  internal  evi- 
dence, is  the  ode  to  Spring,  which,  with  those  on  Summer,  Autumn,  and  Winter,  have  been 
of  late  published  as  Johnson's,  and  are,  no  doubt,  all  by  the  same  hand.  We  see  that  Spring 
bears  internal  marks  of  being  Hawkesworth's.  Winter  and  Summer,  Mr.  Chalmers  asserts 
to  be  his  also,  and  the  index  to  the  Gent.  Mag.  for  1748  attributes  Summer  to  Mr.  Greville, 
a  name  known  to  have  been  assumed  by  Hawkesworth.  The  verses  on  the  "Purse,"  and  to 
"  Stella  in  Mourning,"  are  certainly  by  the  same  hand  as  the  four  odes.  The  whole  must 
thert'fore  be  assigned  to  Hawkesworth,  and  should  be  removed  from  their  place  iu  Johnson'i 
works. — Ckokeb. 


*''*'-*^-  gentleman's  magazine.  149 

But  as,  at  a  very  advanced  age,  he  could  condescend  to  trifle  iu 
namhy-pamhy  rhymes,  to  please  Mrs.  Thrale  and  her  daughter,  he 
may  have,  in  his  earlier  years,  composed  such  a  piece  as  this. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  in  this  first  edition  of  "  The  Winter's 
Walk,"  the  concluding  line  is  much  more  Johnsonian  than  it  was 
afterwards  printed  ;  for  in  subsequent  editions,  after  praying  Stella 
to  "  snatch  him  to  her  arms,"  he  says, 

"  And  shield  me  from  the  ills  of  life." 

Whereas  in  the  first  edition  it  is 

"  And  hide  me  from  the  sight  of  life." 

A  horror  of  life  in  general  is  more  consonant  with  Johnson's  habitua; 
gloomy  cast  of  thought.* 

I  have  heard  him  repeat  with  great  energy  the  following  verses, 
which  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  April  this  year  ; 
but  I  have  no  authority  to  say  they  were  his  own.  Indeed,  one  of 
the  best  critics  of  our  age  suggests  to  me,  that  "  the  word  indiffex' 
mtly  being  used  in  the  sense  of  ivithout  concern,  and  being  also 
very  unpoetical,  renders  it  improbable  that  they  should  have  been 
his  composition." 

ON  LORD  LOVAT's  EXECUTION. 

"  Pitied  by  gentle  minds  Kilmarnock  died  ; 
The  brave,  Balmerino,  were  on  thy  side  ; 
Radcliffe,  unhappy  in  his  crimes  of  youth, 
Steady  in  what  he  still  mistook  for  truth, 
Beheld  his  death  so  decently  unmoved, 
The  soft  lamented,  and  the  brave  approved. 
But  Lovat's  fate  indifferently  we  view, 
True  to  no  king,  to  no  religion  true : 
No  fair  forgets  the  ruin  he  has  done ; 
No  child  laments  the  tyrant  of  his  son  ; 
No  Tory  pities,  thinking  what  he  was ; 
No  ^VJlig  compassions, /o?'  he  left  the  cause; 
The  brave  regret  not,  for  he  was  not  brave  ; 
The  honest  mourn  not,  knowing  him  a  knave !"  ' 

I  Johnson's  habitual  horror  was  not  of  life,  but  of  death. — Crozer. 

*  These  verso«  are  somewhat  too  severe  on  the  cxtraordmary  person  who  la  the  chtff 


150  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*^' 

This  year  his  old  pupil  and  friend,  David  Garrick,  having  become 
joint  patentee  and  manager  of  Drury  Lane  theatre,  Johnson  hon 
oured  his  opening  of  it  with  a  Prologue,*  which,  for  just  and  manly 
dramatic  criticism  on  the  whole  range  of  the  English  stage,  as  well  as 
for  poetical  excellence,  is  unrivalled.  Like  the  celebrated  Epilogue  to 
the  "  Distressed  Mother,"  it  was,  during  the  season,  often  called  for 
by  the  audience.  The  most  striking  and  brilliant  passages  of  it  have 
been  so  often  repeated,  and  are  so  well  recollected  by  all  the  lovers 
of  the  drama  and  of  poetry,  that  it  would  be  superfluous  to  point  them 
out.'  In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  December  this  year,  he  in- 
serted an  "  Ode  on  Winter,"  which  is,  I  think,  an  admirable  speci- 
men of  his  genius  for  lyric  poetry. 

But  the  year  1*141  is  distinguished  as  the  epoch  when  Johnson's 
arduous  aud  important  work,  his  "Dictionary  of  rHE  English 
Language,"  was  announced  to  the  world,  by  the  publication  of  its 
Plan  or  Prospectus. 

How  long  this  immense  undertaking  had  been  the  object  of  his 
contemplation,  I  do  not  know.  I  once  asked  him  by  what  means  he 
had  attained  to  that  astonishing  knowledge  of  our  language,  by 
which  he  was  enabled  to  realise  a  design  of  such  extent  aud  accu- 
mulated difficulty.  He  told  me,  that  "  it  was  not  the  effect  of  par- 
ticular study  ;  but  that  it  had  grown  up  in  his  mind  insensibly."  I 
have  been  informed  by  Mr.  James  Dodsley,  that  several  years  be- 
fore this  period,  when  Johnson  was  one  day  sitting  in  his  brother 
Robert's  shop,  he  heard  his  brother  suggest  to  him,  that  a  Diction- 
ary of  the  English  Language  would  be  a  work  that  would  be  well 
received  by  the  public  ;  that  Johnson  seemed  at  first  to  catch  at  the 

Sgure  in  them  ;  for  he  was,  undoubtedly,  brave.  His  pleasantry  during  his  solemn  trial  (in 
which,  by  the  way,  I  have  heard  Mr.  David  Hume  observe,  that  we  have  one  of  the  very  few 
Bpeeches  of  Mr.  Murray,  now  Earl  of  Mansfield,  authentically  given)  was  very  remarkable. 
U'hen  ask>ed  if  he  had  any  questions  to  put  to  Sir  Everard  Fawliener,  who  was  one  of  the 
strongest  witnesses  against  him,  he  answered,  "  I  only  wish  him  joy  of  his  young  wife."  And 
after  sentence  of  death,  in  the  horrible  terms  in  such  cases  of  treason,  was  pronounced  upon 
him,  as  he  was  retiring  from  the  bar,  he  said,  "  Fare  you  well,  my  lords,  we  shall  not  all  meet 
again  in  one  place."  lie  behaved  with  perfect  composure  at  his  execution,  and  called  out, 
**Z>iiloe  et  decomm  est  pro  pairid  mori." — Boswell. 

>  "  Thei-e  are  but  two  decent  prologues  in  our  tongue, — Pope's  to  Cato — Johnson's 
*»  Drury  Lane.  These,  with  the  epilogue  to  the  '  Distressed  Mother,' and,  I  think,  one  of 
Goldsmith's,  and  a  prologue  of  old  Colman's  to  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Philaster,  are  th« 
beat  things  of  the  kind  we  have." — Byron. 


-^^TAT.  3S.  PL.VX    OF    THE    DICTIOXARY.  151 

proi)o.sitioii,  but,  after  a  pause,  said,  iu  bis  abrupt  decisive  manner, 
"I  believe  I  shall  not  undertake  it."  That  he,  however,  had  be* 
stowed  much  thought  upon  the  subject,  before  he  published  his 
"  Plan,"  is  evident  from  the  enlarged,  clear,  and  accurate  views 
which  it  exhibits  ;  and  we  find  him  mentioning  iu  that  tract,  that 
many  of  the  writers  whose  testimonies  were  to  be  produced  as  au- 
thorities, were  selected  by  Pope  ;  which  proves  that  he  had  been 
furnished,  probably  by  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  with  whatever  hints  that 
eminent  poet  had  contributed  towards  a  great  literary  project,  that 
had  been  the  subject  of  important  consideration  in  a  former  reign. 

The  bookseliers  who  contracted  with  Johnson,  single  and  unaided, 
for  the  execution  of  a  work,  which  iu  other  countries  has  not  been 
effected  but  by  the  co-operating  exertions  of  many,  were  Mr.  Robert 
Dodsley,  Mr.  Charles  Hitch,  Mr.  Andrew  Millar,  the  two  Messieurs 
Longman,  and  the  two  Messieurs  Knapton.  The  price  stipulated 
was  fifteen  hundred  and  seventy-five  pounds. 

The  "  Plan"  was  addressed  to  Philip  Dormer,  Earl  of  Chesterfield; 
then  one  of  his  Majesty's  Principal  Secretaries  of  State;  a  nobleman 
who  was  very  ambitious  of  literary  distinction,  and  who,  upon  being 
informed  of  the  design,  had  expressed  himself  in  terms  very  favour- 
able to  its  success.  Tliere  is,  perhaps,  in  everything  of  any  conse- 
quence, a  secret  history  which  it  would  be  amusing  to  know,  could 
we  have  it  authentically  communicated.  Johnson  told  me  (Sept.  22, 
1177),  "  Sir,  the  way  in  which  the  plan  of  my  Dictionary  came  to 
be  inscribed  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  was  this  :  I  had  neglected  to 
write  it  by  the  time  appointed.  Dodsley  suggested  a  desire  to  have 
it  addressed  to  Lord  Chesterfield.  I  laid  hold  of  this  as  a  pretext 
for  delay,  that  it  might  be  better  done,  and  let  Dodsley  have  his 
desire.  I  said  to  my  friend.  Dr.  Bathurst,  '  Now,  if  any  good  comes 
of  my  addressing  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  it  will  be  ascribed  to  deep 
policy,  when,  in  fact,  it  was  only  a  casual  excuse  for  laziness.'  "  ' 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  that  the    'Plan"  has  not  only  the 

>  The  reader  will  see,  in  the  very  next  page,  that  this  account  of  the  affair  was,  to  say  the 
Oest  of  it,  inaccurate;  but  if  it  were  correct,  would  it  not  invalidate  Johnson's  subsequent 
complaint  of  Lord  Chesterfield's  inattention  and  ingratitude  ?  for,  even  if  Iiis  lordship  had 
neglected  what  was  dedicated  to  him  only  by  laziness  and  accident,  he  could  not  justlj  be 
charged  with  ingratitude ;  a  dedicator  who  means  no  compliment,  has  no  reason  to  complain 
if  he  be  not  rewarded  :  but  more  of  this  hereafter.— Crokeb, 


152  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*' 

substantial  merit  of  comprehension,  perspicuity,  and  precision,  but 
that  the  language  of  it  is  unexceptionably  excellent ;  it  being 
altogether  free  from  that  inflation  of  style,  and  those  uncommon  but 
apt  and  energetic  words,  which,  in  some  of  his  writings,  have  been 
censured,  with  more  petulance  than  justice  ;  and  never  was  there  a 
more  dignified  strain  of  compliment  than  that  in  which  he  courts  the 
attention  of  one  who,  he  had  been  persuaded  to  believe,  would  be  a 
respectable  patron, 

"  With  regard  to  questions  of  purity  or  propriety,"  says  he,  "  I  was  once  in 
doubt  whether  I  should  not  attribute  to  myself  too  much  in  attempting  to 
decide  them,  and  whether  my  province  was  to  extend  beyond  the  proposition 
of  the  question,  and  the  display  of  the  suffrages  on  each  side ;  but  I  have  been 
since  determined  by  your  lordship's  opinion,  to  interpose  my  own  judgment, 
and  shall  therefore  endeavour  to  support  what  appears  to  me  most  consonant 
to  grammar  and  reason.  Ausonius  thought  that  modesty  forbade  him  to  plead 
inability  for  a  task  to  which  Caesar  had  judged  him  equal : 

*  Cur  me  posse  negem,  posse  quod  ille  putat  V 

And  I  may  hope,  my  lord,  that  since  you,  whose  authority  in  our  language  is 
so  generally  acknowledged,  have  commissioned  me  to  declare  ray  own  opinion, 
I  shall  be  considered  as  exercising  a  kind  of  vicarious  jurisdiction;  and  that  the 
power  which  might  have  been  denied  to  my  own  claim,  will  be  readily  allowed 
me  as  the  delegate  of  your  lordship." 

This  passage  proves,  that  Johnson's  addressing  his  "Plan"  to 
Lord  Chesterfield  was  not  merely  in  consequence  of  the  result  of  a 
report  by  means  of  Dodsley,  that  the  earl  favoured  the  design  ;  but 
that  there  had  been  a  particular  communication  with  his  lordship 
concerning  it.  Dr.  Taylor  told  me,  that  Johnson  sent  his  "  Plan  "  to 
him  in  manuscript,  for  his  perusal  ;  and  that  when  it  was  lying  upon 
his  table,  Mr.  William  Whitehead  happened  to  pay  him  a  visit,  and 
being  shewn  it,  was  highly  pleased  with  such  parts  of  it  as  he  had 
time  to  read,  and  begged  to  take  it  home  with  him,  which  he  was 
allowed  to  do  ;  that  from  him  it  got  into  the  hands  of  a  noble  lord, 
who  carried  it  to  Lord  Chesterfield,'     When  Taylor  observed  this 

'  This  also  must  be  inaccurate,  for  the  plan  contains  numerous  allusions  and  references 
to  Lord  Chesterfield's  opinions :  and  there  is  the  evidence  both  of  Lord  Chesterfield 
and  Johnson,  that  Dodsley  was  the  person  who  communicated  with  his  lordship  sn  the  sut)- 
Ject.— Crokkr 


'i'-'^^T-^  THE    DICTIONARY.  153 

might  be  an  advantage,  Johnson  replied,  "  No,  sir,  it  would  have 
come  out  with  more  bloom,  if  it  had  not  been  seen  before  by  any- 
body." 

The  opinion  conceived  of  it  by  another  noble  author,  appears 
from  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Orrery  to 
Dr.  Birch  : 

"  Caledon,  Dec.  80, 1747. 
"I  have  jnst  now  seen  the  specimen  of  Mr.  Johnson's  Dictionary 
addressed  to  Lord  Chesterfield.  I  am  much  pleased  with  the  plan,  and  I  think 
the  specimen  is  one  of  the  best  that  I  have  ever  read.  Most  specimen'3 
disgust,  rather  than  prejudice  us  in  favour  of  the  work  to  follow  ;  but  the 
language  of  Mr.  Johnson's  is  good,  and  the  arguments  are  properly  and 
modestly  expressed.  However,  some  expressions  may  be  cavilled  at,  but  they 
are  trifles.  I'll  mention  one  :  the  barren  laurel.  The  laurel  is  not  barren,  in 
any  sense  whatever  ;  it  bears  fruits  and  flowers.  Sed  hce  sunt  7iU(/ce,  and  I  have 
great  expectations  from  the  performance." 

That  he  was  fully  aware  of  the  arduous  nature  of  the  under- 
taking, he  acknowledges  ;  and  shows  himself  perfectly  sensible  of 
it  in  the  conclusion  of  his  "  Plan  ;"  but  he  had  a  noble  conscious- 
ness of  his  own  abilities,  which  enabled  him  to  go  on  with  undaunted 
spirit. 

Dr.  Adams  found  him  one  day  busy  at  his  Dictionary,  when  the 
following  dialogue  ensued  : — "  Adams.  This  is  a  great  work,  sir. 
How  are  you  to  get  all  the  etymologies  ?  Johnson.  Why,  sir,  here 
is  a  shelf  with  Junius,  and  Skinner,  and  others  ;  and  there  is  a 
Welch  gentleman  who  has  published  a  collection  of  Welch  proverbs, 
who  will  help  me  with  the  Welch.  Adams.  But,  sir,  how  can  you 
do  this  in  three  years  ?  Johnson.  Sir,  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  can 
do  it  in  three  years.  Adams.  But  the  French  Academy,  which  con- 
sists of  forty  members,  took  forty  years  to  compile  their  Dictionary. 
Johnson.  Sir,  thus  it  is.  This  is  the  proportion.  Let  me  see  ; 
forty  times  forty  is  sixteen  hundred.  As  three  to  sixteen  hundred, 
50  is  the  proportion  of  an  Englishman  to  a  Frenchman."  With  so 
much  ease  and  pleasantry  could  he  talk  of  that  prodigious  labour 
which  he  had  undertaken  to  execute. 

The  public  has  had,  from  another  pen,'  a  long  detail  of  what  had 

•  Sir  John  Hawkins's  List  of  former  Englisli  Dictionaries  is,  however,  by  no  means  com 
plete. — Malone, 


154  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOX.  ^'*' 

been  done  in  this  country  by  prior  Lexicographers  ;  and  no  doubt 
Johnson  was  wise  to  avail  himself  of  them,  so  far  as  they  went :  but 
the  learned  yet  judicious  research  of  etymology,  the  various,  yet 
accurate  display  of  definition,  and  the  rich  collection  of  authorities, 
were  reserved  for  the  superior  mind  of  our  great  philologist.  For 
the  mechanical  part  he  employed,  as  he  told  me,  six  amanuenses  ; 
and  let  it  be  remembered  by  the  natives  of  North-Britain,  to  whom 
he  is  supposed  to  have  beeu  so  hostile,  that  five  of  them  were  of 
that  country.  There  were  two  Messieurs  Macbean  ;  Mr.  Shiels, 
who,  we  shall  hereafter  see  [April  10,  lt76],  partly  wrote  the 
Lives  of  the  Poets  to  which  the  name  of  Gibber  is  affixed  ;  Mr 
Stewart,  son  of  Mr.  George  Stewart,  bookseller  at  Edinburgh  ;  and 
a  Mr.  Maitland.  The  sixth  of  these  humble  assistants  was  Mr. 
Peyton,  who,  I  believe,  taught  French,  and  published  some  elemen- 
tary tracts. 

To  all  these  painful  labourers,  Johnson  showed  a  never-ceasing 
kindness,  so  far  as  they  stood  in  need  of  it.  The  elder  Mr.  Mae- 
bean  had  afterwards  the  honour  of  being  Librarian  to  Archibald, 
Duke  of  Argyle,  for  many  years,  but  was  left  without  a  shilling. 
Johnson  wrote  for  him  a  preface  to,  "  A  System  of  Ancient  Geogra- 
phy ;"  and  by  the  favour  of  Lord  Thurlow,  got  him  admitted  a 
poor  brother  of  the  Charter-house.  For  Shiels,  who  died  of  a  con- 
sumption, he  had  much  tenderness  ;  and  it  has  been  thought  that 
some  choice  sentences  in  the  Lives  of  the  Poets  were  supplied  by 
him.  Peyton,  when  reduced  to  penury,  had  frequent  aid  from  the 
bounty  of  Johnson  ;  who  at  last  was  at  the  expense  of  burying  him 
and  his  wife. 

While  the  Dictionary  was  going  forward,  Johnson  lived  part  of 
the  time  in  Holborn,  part  in  Gough  Square,  Fleet  Street  ;  and  he 
had  an  upper  room  fitted  up  like  a  counting-house  for  the  purpose, 
in  which  he  gave  to  the  copyists  their  several  tasks.  The  words 
partly  taken  from  other  dictionaries,  and  partly  supplied  by  himself, 
having  been  first  written  dowu  with  spaces  left  between  them,  he 
delivered  in  writing  their  etymologies,  definitions,  and  various  signi- 
fications.'    The  authorities  were  copied  from  the  books  themselves, 

1  Boswell'a  account  of  the  manner  in  which  Johnson  compiled  his  Dictionary  is  confused 
Hud  erroneous.     He  began  his  task  (as  he  himself  expressly  described  to  me),  by  devoting 


^TAT.  8U  THE    DICTIONARY,  Irio 

111  which  lie  had  marked  the  passages  with  a  black-lead  pencil,' 
the  traces  of  which  could  easily  be  effaced.  I  have  seen  several 
of  them,  in  which  that  trouble  had  not  been  taken  ;  so  that  they 
were  just  as  when  used  by  the  copyists.  It  is  remarkabl-e,  that  he 
was  so  attentive  in  the  choice  of  the  passages  in  which  words  were 
authorized,  that  one  may  read  page  after  page  of  his  Dictionary 
with  improvement  and  pleasure  ;  and  it  should  not  pass  unobserved, 
that  he  has  quoted  no  author  whose  writings  had  a  tendency  to 
hurt  sound  religion  and  morality. 

The  necessary  expense  of  preparing  a  work  of  such  magnitude  foi 
the  press,  must  have  been  a  considerable  deduction  from  the  price 
stipulated  to  be  paid  for  the  copyright.  I  understand  that  nothing 
was  allowed  by -the  booksellers  on  that  account  ;  and  I  remember 
his  telling  me,  that  a  large  portion  of  it  having,  by  mistake,  been 
written  upon  both  sides  of  the  paper,  so  as  to  be  inconvenient  for 
the  compositor,  it  cost  him  twenty  pounds  to  have  it  transcribed 
-ipon  one  side  only 

He  is  now  to  be  considered  as  "  tugging  at  his  oar,"  as  engaged 
ill  a  steady,  continued  course  of  occupation,  suflBcient  to  employ  all 
his  time  for  some  years  ;  and  which  was  the  best  preventive  of  that 
constitutional  melancholy  which  was  ever  lurking  about  him,  ready 
to  trouble  his  quiet.  But  his  enlarged  and  lively  mind  could  not 
be  satisfied  without  more  diversity  of  employment,  and  the  pleasure 
of  animated  relaxation.^  He  therefore  not  only  exerted  his  talents 
in  occasional  composition,  very  different  from  Lexicography,  but 

his  first  care  to  a  diligent  perusal  of  all  such  English  writers  as  were  most  correct  in  their  lan- 
guage, and  under  every  sentence  which  he  meant  to  quote  he  drew  a  line,  and  noted  in  the 
ni.ivgin  the  first  letter  of  the  word  under  which  it  was  to  occur.  He  then  delivered  these 
books  to  his  clerks,  who  transcribed  each  sentence  on  a  separate  slip  of  paper,  and  arranged 
the  same  under  the  word  referred  to.  By  these  means  he  collected  the  several  words  and 
their  different  significations ;  and  when  the  whole  arrangement  was  alphabetically  formed,  he 
gave  the  definitions  of  their  meanings,  and  collected  their  etymologies  from  Skinner,  Junius, 
and  other  writers  on  the  subject. — Percy. 

'  Johnson's  copy  of  Hutlibras,  1726,  with  the  passages  thus  marked  on  every  page,  is  now 
ii.  Mr.  Upcott's  collection.     It  has  Johnson's  signature,  dated  Aug.  1747. 

-  For  the  sake  of  relaxation  from  his  literary  labours,  and  probably  also  for  Mrs.  John- 
son's health,  he  this  summer  visited  Tunbridge  Wells,  then  a  place  of  much  greater  resort 
than  it  is  at  present.  Here  he  met  Mr.  Cibber,  Mr.  Garrick,  Mr.  Samuel  Richardson,  Mr.  Whis* 
ton,  Mr.  Onslow  (the  Speaker),  Mr  Pitt,  Mr.  Lyttleton,  and  several  other  distinguished  per- 
sons In  a  print,  representing  some  of  "the  remarkable  characters  "  who  were  present  at 
Tunbridge  W' ells  in  174S  (see  Richardson's  Correspondence),  Dr.  Johnson  stands  the  first 
figure.— Malosk. 


156  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  *^^ 

formed  a  club  in  Ivy  Lane,  Paternoster  Row,  with  a  view  to  enjoy 
literary  discussion,  and  amuse  bis  evening  hours.  The  members 
associated  with  him  in  this  Uttle  society  were  his  beloved  friend 
Dr.  Richard  Bathurst,  Mr.  Hawkesworth,  afterwards  well  known 
by  his  writings,  Mr.  John  Hawkins,  an  attorney,'  and  a  few  others 
of  different  professions."'' 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  May  of  this  year,  he  wrote  a 
"  Life  of  Roscommon,"*  with  Notes;  which  he  afterwards  much 
improved  (indenting  the  notes  in  text),  and  inserted  amongst  his 
Lives  of  the  English  Poets. 

Mr.  Dodsley  this  year  brought  out  his  "  Preceptor,"  one  of  the 

'  He  was  afterwards,  for  several  years  chairman  of  the  Middlesex  Justices,  and  upon 
occasion  of  presenting  an  address  to  the  liing,  accepted  the  usual  offer  of  knighthood.  He  ia 
author  of  "  A  History  of  Music,"  in  five  volumes  in  quarto.  By  assiduous  attendance  upon 
Johnson  in  his  last  illness,  he  obtained  the  office  of  one  of  his  executors ;  in  consequence  of 
whicli  the  booksellers  of  London  employed  him  to  publish  an  edition  of  Dr.  Johnson's  works, 
and  to  write  his  Life. 

^  Sir  John  Hawkins  says  : — "  The  club  met  weekly  at  the  King's  Head,  a  famous  beef- 
steak house,  in  Ivy  Lane,  every  Tuesday  evening.  Thither  Johnson  constantly  resorted,  and, 
with  a  disposition  to  please  and  be  pleased,  would  pass  those  hours  in  a  free  and  unrestrained 
interchange  of  sentiments,  which  otherwise  had  been  spent  at  home  in  painful  reflection. 
The  persons  who  composed  this  little  society  were — the  Rev.  Dr.  Salter,  father  of  the  late  Mas- 
ter of  the  Charter  House ;  Dr.  Hawkesworth ;  Mr.  Ryland,  a  merchant ;  Mr.  John  Payne, 
then  a  bookseller ;  Mr.  Samuel  Dyer,  a  learned  young  man  intended  for  the  dissenting  minis- 
try ;  Dr.  William  M'Ghie,  a  Scots  physician ;  Dr.  Edmund  Barker,  a  young  physician ; 
Dr.  Richard  Bathurst,  also  a  j'oung  physician  ;  and  myself. ^ — At  these  meetings  I  had  oppor- 
tunities of  observing,  not  only  that  in  conversation  Johnson  made  it  a  rule  to  talk  his  best,  but 
that  on  many  subjects  he  was  not  uniform  in  his  opinions,  contending  as  often  for  victory  as 
for  truth.  At  one  time  good,  at  another  evil,  was  predominant  in  the  moral  constitution  of 
the  world.  Upon  one  occasion,  he  would  deplore  the  non-observance  of  Good  Friday,  and 
on  another  deny  that  among  us  of  the  present  age  there  is  any  decline  of  public  worship.  He 
would  sometimes  contradict  self-evident  propositions,  such  as,  that  the  luxury  of  this  country 
has  increased  with  its  riches  ;  and  that  the  practice  of  card-playing  is  more  general  than  hereto- 
fore. At  this  versatility  of  temper  none,  however,  took  offence:  as  Alexander  and  Ctesarwere 
born  for  conquest,  so  was  Johnson  for  the  office  of  a  symposiarch,  to  preside  in  all  conversa- 
tions ;  and  I  never  yet  saw  the  man  who  would  venture  to  contest  his  right. — Let  it  not,  how- 
ever, be  imagined,  that  the  members  of  this  our  club  met  together  with  the  temper  of  gla- 
diators, or  that  there  was  wanting  among  them  a  disposition  to  yield  to  each  other  in  all 
diversities  of  .opinion :  and.  indeed,  disputation  was  not,  as  in  many  associations  of  this  kind, 
the  purpose  of  the  meeting;  nor  were  their  conversations,  like  those  of  the  Rota  club, 
restrained  to  particular  topics.  On  the  contrary,  it  may  be  said,  that  with  the  gravest  dis- 
courses was  intermingled  "mirth,  that  after  no  repenting  draws  "  (Milton) ;  for  not  only  in 
Johnson's  melancholy  there  were  lucid  intervals,  but  ho  was  a  great  contributor  to  the  mirth 
of  conversation,  by  the  many  witty  sayings  he  uttered,  and  the  many  excellent  stories  which 
his  memiry  had  treasured  up,  and  he  would  on  occasion  relate;  so  that  those  are  greatly 
mistaken  who  infer,  either  from  the  general  tendency  of  his  writings,  or  that  appearance  of 
hebetude  which  marked  his  countenance  when  living,  and  is  discernible  in  the  pictures  an<; 
prints  of  him,  that  he  could  only  reason  and  discuss,  dictate  and  control.    Ia  the  talent  of 


•*"'■•  ^-  "  VANITY    OF    lIClfAN    WISHES."  ,  151 

most  valuable  books  for  the  improvement  of  young  minds  that  has 
appeared  in  any  language;  and  to  this  meritorious  work  Johnsoi: 
furnished  "  The  Preface/'*  containing  a  general  sketch  of  the  book, 
with  a  short  and  perspicuous  recommendation  of  each  article;  as, 
also,  "  The  Vision  of  Theodore,  the  Hermit,  found  in  his  Cell,"*  a 
most  beautiful  allegory  of  human  life,  under  the  figure  of  ascending 
the  mountain  of  Existence.  The  Bishop  of  Dromore  heard  Dr. 
Johnson  say,  that  he  tliought  this  was  the  best  thing  he  ever 
wrote.' 

In  January,  1149,  he  published  "  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes, 
being  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal  imitated."*  He,  I  believe,  com- 
posed it  the  preceding  year.*  Mrs.  Johnson,  for  the  sake  of  country 
air,  had  lodgings  at  Hampstead,  to  which  he  resorted  occasionally, 
and  there  the  greatest  part,  if  not  the  whole,  of  this  Imitation  was 
written.  The  fervid  rapidity  with  which  it  was  produced,  is  scarcely 
credible.  I  have  heard  him  say,  that  he  composed  seventy  Unes  of 
it  in  one  day,  without  putting  one  of  them  upon  paper  till  they  were 
finished.^  I  remember  when  I  once  regretted  to  him  that  he  had 
not  given  us  more  of  Juvenal's  Satires,  he  said  he  probably  should 
give  more,  for  he  had  them  all  in  his  head:  by  which  I  understood, 
that  he  had  the  originals  and  correspondent  allusions  floating  in  his 
mind,  which  he  could,  when  he  pleased,  embody  and  render  perma- 

humourf  there  hardlj-  ever  was  his  equal,  except,  perhaps,  among  the  old  comedians,  such 
as  Tarleton,  and  a  few  others  mentioned  by  Gibber.  By  means  of  this  he  was  enabled  to 
^ve  to  any  relation  that  required  it,  the  graces  and  aids  of  expression,  and  to  discriminate, 
•with  the  fiicest  exactness,  the  characters  of  those  w"hom  it  concerned.  In  aping  this  faculty, 
I  have  seen  Warburton  disconcerted,  and  when  he  would  fain  have  been  thought  a  man  of 
pleasantry,  no^  i  little  out  of  countenance." 

1  The  bishS,  -d  me,  that  Johnson  composed  it,  in  one  night,  after  finishing  an  evening 
at  Holborn. — TrbftJ. 

^  Sir  John  Hawkins,  with  solemn  inaccuracy,  represents  his  poem  as  a  consequence  of  the 
Indifferent  reception  of  his  tragedy.  But  the  fact  is,  that  the  poem  was  published  on  the  9th 
of  January,  and  the  tragedy  was  not  acted  till  the  6th  of  the  February  following. 

3  This  was  Johnson's  general  habit  of  composing;  his  defect  of  sight  rendered  writing  and 
written  corrections  troublesoK  "  ">  he  Ur*''"'-fore  exercised  memory  where  others  would  have 
employed  pen  and  paper. — Croki,^ 

+  Mr.  Murphy,  a  better  judge  than  Sir  J.  Hawkins,  tells  us,  to  the  same  effect,  that  "  John- 
Bon  was  surprised  to  be  told,  but  it  certain4y  was  true,  that  with  all  his  great  powers  of  mind, 
wit  and  humour  -were  his  most  shining  talents;"  and  Mrs.  Piozzi  says,  that  "his  vein  of 
humour  was  rich  and  apparently  inexhaustible — to  such  a  degree,  that  Mr.  Murphy  used  to 
gay  he  was  incomparable  at  buffoonery."  This  should  be  borne  in  mind  in  reading  Johnson'i 
conversations,  because  much  of  that  peculiarity  called  humour  cannot  be  adequately  con- 
veyed in  words,  and  many  things  may  appear  trite,  dull,  or  offensively  rude  in  mere  naTra 
tlon,  whicii  were  enlivened  or  softened  by  the  air  and  style  of  tue  Jelivery. — Cao£»" 


158  LIFE    OF.  JOHNSOX. 


1749 


nent  without  much  labour.'  Some  of  them,  however,  he  observed, 
were  too  gross  for  imitation. 

The  profits  of  a  single  poem,  however  excellent,  appear  to  have 
been  very  small  in  the  last  reign,  compared  with  what  a  publicatioa 
of  the  same  size  has  since  been  known  to  yield.  I  have  mentioned, 
upon  Johnson's  own  authority,  that  for  his  "  London  "  he  h^d  only 
ten  guineas;  and  now,  after  his  fame  was  established,  he  got  for  his 
"  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  "  but  five  guineas  more,  as  is  proved  by 
an  authentic  document  in  my  possession." 

It  will  be  observed,  that  he  reserves  to  himself  the  right  of  print- 
ing one  edition  of  his  satire,  which  was  his  practice  upon  occasion 
of  the  sale  of  all  his  writings;  it  beiug  his  fixed  intention  to  publish 
at  some  period,  for  his  own  profit,  a  complete  collection  of  his 
works. 

His  "Vanity  of  Human  Wishes"  has  less  of  common  life,  but 
more  of  a  philosophic  dignity,  than  his  "  London."  More  readers, 
therefore,  will  be  delighted  with  the  pointed  spirit  of  "  London," 
than  with  the  profound  reflection  of  "  The  Vanity  of  Human 
Wishes." '  Garrick,  for  instance,  observed,  in  his  sprightly  manner, 
with  more  vivacity  than  regard  to  just  discrimination,  as  is  usual 
with  wits,  "  When  Johnson  lived  much  with  the  Herveys,  and  saw  a 

1  Johnson  knew  Juvenal  welL  "  His  peculiarity,"  he  says,  "  is  a  mixture  of  gaiety  and 
stateliness,  of  pointed  sentences  and  declamatory  grandeur."  A  good  idea  of  it  may  be 
formed  from  Johnson's  own  beautiful  Imitation  of  the  Third  Satire.  His  Imitation  of  the 
Tenth  (still  more  beautiful  as  a  poem)  has  scarcely  a  trait  of  the  author's  manner  ; — that  is 
to  say,  of  that  "  mixture  of  gaiety  and  stateliness,"  which,  according  to  his  own  definition, 
constitutes  the  "peculiarity  of  Juvenal."  The  "Vanity  of  Human  Wishes"  is  uniformly 
stately  and  severe,  and  without  those  light  and  popular  strokes  of  sarcasm,  which  abound  so 
much  in  the  "  London." — Gifford's  Juvenal,  vol.  i.  p.  Ixxiii. 

2  "  Nov.  25,  1748,  I  received  of  Mr.  Dodsley  fifteen  guineas,  for  which  I  assign  to  him  the 
right  of  copy  of  an  Imitation  of  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal,  written  by  me,  reserving  to 
myself  the  right  of  printing  one  edition.     Sam.  Johnson." 

^  Jan.  9,  182L  Read  Johnson's  "  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes," — all  the  examples  and  mode 
of  giving  them  sublime,  as  well  as  the  latter  part,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional 
couplet.  I  do  not  so  much  admire  the  opening.  I  remember  an  observation  of  Sharp's  (the 
Cvn/Bersaiionisi ,  as  he  was  called  in  London,  and  a  very  clever  man),  that  the  first  line  of 
this  poem  was  superfluous,  and  that  Pope  would  have  begun  at  once  : — 

"  Survey  mankind  froni  China  to  Peru." 
The  former  line,  "  Let  observation,"  4c.  is  certainly  heavy  and  useless.  But  'tis  a  grand 
poem — and  so  true  ! — true  as  the  Tenth  of  Juvenal  himself.  The  lapse  of  ages  changes  aU 
things — time — language — the  earth^the  bounds  of  the  sea — the  stars  of  the  sky,  and  every 
thing  "  about,  around,  and  underneath  "  man,  except  man  himfielf.  The  infinite  variety  oi 
lives  ;onduct  but  to  death,  aa«  the  infinity  of  wishes  lead  but  to  disappointment. — Bybok.] 


■*"■'•  *^-  "VAXITY    OF   HUMAN    "WISHIiS.  159 

good  deal  of  what  was  passing  iu  life,  he  wrote  his  '  London,'  which 
is  lively  and  easy:  when  he  became  more  retired,  he  gave  us  his 
'Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,'  which  is  as  hard  as  Greek:  had  he 
gone  ou  to  imitate  another  satire,  it  would  have  been  as  hard  as 
Hebrew."  ' 

But  "  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  "  is,*  in  the  opinion  of  the 
best  judges,  as  high  an  effort  of  ethic  poetry  as  any  language  can 
show.  The  instances  of  variety  of  disappointment  are  chosen  so 
judiciously,  and  painted  so  strongly,  that,  the  moment  they  are 
read,  they  bring  conviction  to  every  thinking  mind.  That  of  the 
scholar  *  must  have  depressed  the  too  sanguine  expectations  of  many 
an  ambitious  student.  That  of  the  warrior,  Charles  of  Sweden,  is, 
I  think,  as  highly  finished  a  picture  as  can  possibly  be  conceived. 

Were  all  the  other  excellencies  of  this  poem  annihilated,  it  must 
ever  have  our  grateful  reverence  from  its  noble  conclusion  ;  in 
which  we  are  consoled  with  the  assurance  that  happiness  may  be 
attained,  if  we  "  apply  our  hearts  "  to  piety : 

"  Where  then  shall  hope  and  fear  their  objects  find? 
Shall  dull  suspense  corrupt  the  stagnant  mind? 
Must  helpless  man,  in  ignorance  sedate, 
Roll  darkling  down  the  torrent  of  his  fate  ? 
Shall  no  dislike  alarm,  no  wishes  rise, 
No  cries  attempt  the  mercy  of  the  skies  ? 

'  l»om  Mr.  Langton. — Boswell.  Garrick's  criticism  (if  it  deserves  the  name)  and  his  facts 
are  b»ili  unfounded.  "  The  A'anity  of  Human  Wishes  "  is  in  a  graver  and  higher  tone  than 
the  "  London,"  but  not  harder  to  be  understood.  On  the  contrary,  some  classical  allusions, 
incons-istent  with  modern  manners,  obscure  passages  of  the  latter  ;  while  all  the  illustrations, 
sentiments,  and  expressions  of  the  former  are,  though  wonderfully  noble  and  dignified,  yet 
perfectly  intelligible,  and  almost  familiar.  Moreover,  we  have  seen  that  when  Johnson  wrote 
"London,"  he  was  not  living  the  gay  and  fashionable  life  which  Mr.  Garrick  is  represented 
as  mentioning.  Alas  !  he  was  starving  in  obscure  lodgings  on  eight-pence,  and  sometimes  even 
four-pence  a  day  (see  ante,  p.  90) ;  and  there  is,  in  "  London,"  nothing  to  show  any  intimacy 
with  the  great  or  fashionable  world.  As  to  the  Uerveys,  it  may  be  here  observed — contrary 
to  Mr.  Boswell's  (as  well  as  Mr.  Garrick's)  supposition — that  he  was  intimate  with  that  family 
previous  to  the  publication  of  "  London  :"— that  the  sneer  in  that  poem  ^f  Clodio's  jest," 

stood,  in  the  first  edition,  "  ff y''sjest,^'  and  was  probably  aimed  at  Lord  Hervey,  who  was 

a  favourite  theme  of  satire  with  the  opposition  writers  of  the  day. — Croker. 

2  When  Dr.  Johnson,  one  day,  read  his  own  Satire,  in  which  the  life  of  a  scholar  is  painted, 
fith  the  various  obstructions  thrown  in  his  way  to  fortune  and  to  fame,  he  burst  into  a  pas- 
sion of  tears;  Mr.  Thrale's  family  and  Mr.  Scott  only  were  present,  who,  in  a  jocose  way, 
flapped  him  on  the  back,  and  said,  "  What's  all  this,  my  dear  sir?  Why  you  and  I,  and  Her- 
cules, you  know,  were  all  troubled  with  melancholy."  He  was  a  very  large  man,  and  made 
out  the  triumvirate  with  Johnson  and  Hercules  comically  enough." — Fiozzi. 


ICO  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^** 

Inquirer  cease  ;  petitions  yet  remain, 
Which  Ileav'n  may  hear,  nor  deem  Religion  vain. 
Still  raise  for  good  the  supplicating  voice, 
But  leave  to.  Heaven  the  measure  and  the  choice. 
■  Safe  in  His  hand,  whose  eye  discerns  afar 
The  secret  ambush  of  a  specious  pray'r ; 
Implore  His  aid,  in  His  decisions  rest. 
Secure,  whate'er  He  gives,  He  gives  the  best: 
Yet  when  the  sense  of  sacred  presence  fires, 
And  strong  devotion  to  the  skies  aspires, 
Pour  forth  thy  fervours  for  a  healthful  mind, 
Obedient  passions,  and  a  will  resign'd ; 
For  love,  which  scarce  collective  man  can  fill ; 
For  patience,  sovereign  o'er  transmuted  ill ; 
For  faith,  which  panting  for  a  happier  seat. 
Counts  death  kind  Nature's  signal  for  retreat : 
These  goods  for  man  the  laws  of  Heaven  ordain, 
These  goods  He  grants,  who  grants  the  power  to  gain ; 
With  these  celestial  wisdom  calms  the  mind. 
And  makes  the  happiness  she  does  not  find."  ' 

Garrick  being  now  vested  with  theatrical  power  by  being  mana- 
ger of  Drury  Lane  theatre,  he  kindly  and  generously  made  use  of  it 
to  bring  out  Johnson's  tragedy,  which  had  been  long  kept  back  for 
want  of  encouragement.  But  in  this  benevolent  purpose  he  met 
with  no  small  difficulty  from  the  temper  of  Johnson,  which  could  not 
brook  that  a  drama  which  he  had  formed  with  much  study,  and  had 
been  obliged  to  keep  more  than  the  nine  years  of  Horace,  should  be 
revised  and  altered  at  the  pleasure  of  an  actor.  Yet  Garrick  knew 
well,  that  without  some  alterations  it  would  not  be  fit  for  the  stage. 
A  violent  dispute  having  ensued  between  them,  Garrick  ajiplied  to 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Taylor  to  interpose.  Johnson  was  at  first  very 
obstinate.     "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  the  fellow  wants  me  to  make  Mahomet 

'  In  this  poera,  a  line  in  which  the  danger  attending  on   female  beauty  is  mentioned,  baa 
very  generally,  I  believe,  been  misunderstood  : — 

"  Yet  Vane  could  tell  what  ills  from  beauty  spring, 
And  Sedley  cursed  the  lorm  that  pleased  a  king." 

The  lady  mentioned  in  the  fii'st  of  these  verses,  was  not  the  celebrated  Lady  Vane,  whoss 
Memoirs  were  given  to  the  public  by  Dr.  Smollett,  but  Ann  Vane,  who  was  mistress  to  Frede- 
rick, Prince  of  Wales,  and  died  in  1736,  not  long  before  Johnson  settled  in  London.  Pome 
account  of  this  lady  was  published,  under  the  title  of  "  The  Secret  History  »f  Vanella,"  8vo. 
1T32.     See  also,  '  Vanella  in  the  Straw,"  4to.  1732.— Boswell. 


*T*T.40.  "  IREiVE "    REPRESENTED,  161 

run  luad,  that  he  may  have  an  opportunity  of  tossing  his  hands  and 
kicking  his  heels."*.  He  was,  however,  at  last,  with  difficulty  pre- 
vailed on  to  comply  with  Garrick's  wishes,  so  as  to  allow  of  some 
changes,  but  still  there  were  not  enough. 

Dr.  Adams  was  present  the  first  night  of  the  representation  of 
Irene,  and  gave  tne  the  following  account : — "  Before  the  curtain 
drew  up,  there  were  catcall?  whistling,  which  alarmed  Johnson's 
friends.  The  Prologue,  which  vvas  written  by  himself  in  a  manly 
strain,  soothed  the  audience,*  and  the  play  went  off  tolerably,  till  it 
came  to  the  conclusion,  when  Mrs.  Pritchard,  the  heroine  of  the 
piece,  was  to  be  strangled  upon  the  stage,  and  was.  to  speak  two 
lines  with  the  bowstring  round  her  neck.  The  audience  cried  out 
'  Murder  !  murder .' ' '  '  She  several  times  attempted  to  speak  ;  but 
in  vain.  At  last  she  was  obliged  to  go  off  the  stage  alive."  This 
passage  was  afterwards  struck  out,  and  she  was  carried  off  to  be  put 
to  death  behind  the  scenes,  as  the  play  now  has  it.  The  Epilogue, 
as  Johnson  informed  me,  was  written  by  Sir  William  Yonge.  I 
know  not  how  his  play  came  to  be  thus  graced  by  the  pen  of  a  per- 
son then  so  eminent  in  the  political  world. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  support  of  such  performers  as  Garrick, 
Barry,  Mrs.  Gibber,  Mrs.  Pritchard,  and  every  advantage  of  dresa 

'  Mahomet  was  in  fact  played  by  Mr.  Barry,  and  Demetrius  by  Mr.  Garrick  ;  but  probably 
at  this  time  the  parts  were  not  yet  cast. 

*  The  expression  used  by  Dr.  Adams  was  "  soothed."  I  should  rather  think  the  audienc* 
was  awed  by  the  extraordinary  spirit  and  dignity  of  the  following  lines : — 

"  Be  this  at  least  his  praise,  be  this  his  pride. 
To  force  applause  no  modern  arts  are  tried  : 
Should  partial  catcalls  all  his  hopes  confound, 
He  bids  no  trumpet  quell  tlie  fatal  sound ; 
Should  welcome  sleep  relieve  the  weary  wit, 
He  rolls  no  tliunders  o'er  the  drowsy  pit ; 
No  snares  to  captivate  the  judgment  spreads, 
Nor  bribes  your  eyes,  to  prejudice  your  heads. 
Unmoved,  though  witlings  sneer  and  rivals  rail. 
Studious  to  please,  yet  not  ashamed  to  fail, 
He  scorns  the  meek  address,  the  suppliant  strain, 
With  merit  needless,  and  without  it  vain  ; 
In  Reason,  Nature,  Truth,  he  dares  to  trust; 
Ye  fops  be  silent,  and  ye  wits  be  just !" 

*  This  shows  how  ready  modern  audiences  are  to  condemn  in  a  new  play  what  they  h»T« 
frequently  endured  very  quietly  in  an  old  one.  Rowe  has  made  Moneses,  in  Tamerlane,  di4 
|>y  the  bowstring,  without  offence. — Malonk. 


162  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1'**- 

and  decoration,  the  tragedy  of  Irene  did  not  please  the  public' 
Mr.  Garrick's  zeal  carried  it  through  for  nine  nights,  so  that  the. 
author  had  his  three  nights'  profits  ;  and  from  a  receipt  signed  by 
him,  now  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  James  Dodsley,  it  appears  that  his 
friend,  Mr.  Kobert  Podsley,  gave  him  one  hundred  pounds  for  the 
copy,  with  his  usual  reservation  of  the  right  of  one  edition." 

Irene,  considered  as  a  poem,  is  entitled  to  the  praise  of  superior 
excellence.  Analysed  into  parts,-  it  will  furnish  a  rich  store  of  noble 
sentiments,  fine  imagery,  and  beautiful  language  ;  but  it  is  deficient 
in  pathos,  in  that  delicate  power  of  touching  the  human  feelinga, 
which  is  the. principal  end  of  the  drama.'  Indeed,  Garrick  has  com- 
plained to  me,  that  Johnson  not  only  had  not  the  faculty  of  pro- 
ducing the  impressions  of  tragedy,  but  that  he  had  not  the  sensibility 
to  perceive  them.  His  great  friend  Mr.  Walmesley's  prediction,  that 
he  would  "  turn  out  a  fine  tragedy  writer,"  was,  therefore,  ill- 
founded.  Johnson  was  wise  enough  to  be  convinced  that  he  had 
not  the  talents  necessary  to  write  successfully  for  the  stage,  and 
never  made  another  attempt  in  that  species  of  composition. 

When  asked  how  he  felt  upon  the  ill  success  of  his  tragedy,  he 
replied,  " Like  the  Monument;"  meaning  that  he  continued  firm 
and  unmoved  as  that  column.  And  let  it  be  remembered,  as  an  ad- 
monition to  the  gmus  irritahile  of  dramatic  writers,  that  this  great 
man,  instead  of  previously  complaining  of  the  bad  taste  of  the  town, 

1  I  knf'W  not  what  Sir  John  Hawkins  means  by  the  cold  reception  of  Irene.  I  was  at  tho 
first  representation,  and  most  of  the  subsequent.  It  was  much  applauded  the  first  night,  par- 
ticularly toe  speech  on  to-morrow.  It  ran  nine  nights  at  least.  It  did  not,  indeed,  become 
a  stock-pUy ;  but  there  was  not  the  least  opposition  during  the  representation,  except  the 
first  night,  in  the  last  act,  where  Irene  was  to  be  strangled  on  the  stage,  which  John  [BuW^ 
could  not  bear,  though  a  dramatic  poet  may  stab  or  slay  by  hundreds.  The  bowstring  was 
not  a  Christian  nor  an  ancient  Greek  or  Roman  death.  But  this  offence  was  removed  after 
the  first  night,  and  Irene  went  off  the  stage  to  be  strangled.  Many  stories  were  circulated  at 
the  time,  o{  the  author's  being  observed  at  the  representation  to  be  dissatisfied  with  some  of 
the  speechtts  and  conduct  of  the  play,  himself ;  and,  like  La  Fontaine,  expressing  his  disappro- 
bation aloud. — Burnet. 

'^  The  amount  of  the  three  benefit  nights,  it  is  to  be  feared,  was  not  very  considerable,  as 
the  profit,  that  stimulating  motive,  never  invited  the  author  to  another  dramatic  attempt. — 
Murphy.  It  appears,  by  a  MS.  note  in  Mr.  Isaac  Reed's  copy  of  that  Life,  that  the  receipts 
of  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  nights,  after  deducting  sixty  guineas  a  night  for  the  expenses  of 
the  house,  amounted  to  £195  17.*. ;  Johnson  cleared,  therefore,  in  all,  very  nearly  £300. 

'  Aaron  Hill  (vol  ii  p.  855),  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mallet,  gives  the  following  account  of 
"  Irene:  " — "  I  was  at  the  anomalous  Mr.  Johnson's  benefit,  and  found  the  play  liis  proper 
representative  ;  strong  sense  ungraced  by  sweetness  or  decorum." 


Xf^f-^-  THE    GUEEN'-ROOM.  163 

subinitteci  to  its  decision  without  a  murmur.  He  had,  indeed,  upon 
all  occasions,  a  great  deference  for  tlie  general  opinion  :  "  A  man," 
said  he,  "  who  writes  a  book  thinks  himself  wiser  and  wittier  than 
the  rest  of  mankind  ;  he  supposes  that  he  can  instruct  or  amuse 
them,  and  the  public  to  whom  he  appeals  must,  after  all,  be  th? 
judges  of  his  pretensions." 

On  occasion  of  this  play  being  brought  upon  the  stage,  Johnson 
had  a  fancy  that,  as  a  dramatic  author,  his  dress  should  be  more 
gay  than  what  he  ordinarily  wore  :  he  therefore  appeared  behind 
the  scenes,  and  even  in  one  of  the  side  boxes,  in  a  scarlet  waistcoat, 
with  rich  gold  lace,  and  a  gold-laced  hat.  He  humorously  observed 
to  Mr.  Langton,  "  that  when  in  that  dress  he  could  not  treat  people 
with  the  same  ease  as  when  in  his  usual  plain  clothes."  Dress,  in- 
deed, we  must  allow,  has  more  effect,  even  upon  strong  minds,  than 
one  should  suppose,  without  having  had  the  experience  of  it.  His 
necessary  attendance  while  his  play  was  in  rehearsal,  and  during  its 
performance,  brought  him  acquainted  with  many  of  the  performers 
of  both  sexes,  which  produced  a  more  favourable  opinion  of  their 
profession,  than  he  had  harshly  expressed  in  his  Life  of  Savage.' 
With  some  of  them  he  kept  up  an  acquaintance  as  long  as  he  and 
they  lived,  and  was  ever  ready  to  show  them  acts  of  kindness.  He, 
for  a  considerable  time,  used  to  frequent  the  Green-room,  and  seemed 
to  take  delight  in  dissipating  his  gloom,  by  mixing  in  the  sprightly 
chit-chat  of  the  motley  circle  then  to  be  found  there.  Mr.  David 
Hume  related  to  me  from  Mr.  Garrick,  that  Johnson  at  last  denied 
himself  this  amusement,  from  considerations  of  rigid  virtue  ;  saying, 
"  I'll  come  no  more  behind  your  scenes,  David  ;  for  the  silk  stock- 
ings and  white  bosoms  of  your  actresses  excite  my  amorous  propen- 
sities." 

Letter  16.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER."     . 

"  GOFF  Square,  July  12, 1749. 
"  Dear  Miss, — I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  for  your  letter,  which  I  would 
aave  answered  last  post,  but  that  illness  prevented  me.     I  have  been  often  out 

•  This  appears  to  have  been  by  no  means  the  case.  His  most  acrimonious  attacks  od 
Garrick,  and  Sheridan,  and  players  in  general,  were  subsequent  to  this  period. — CnoKER. 

'  This  is  one  of  Johnson's  letters  to  bis  step-daughter,  which  Mr.  Croker  receiv.}.!  from  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Ilarwood,  the  historian  of  Lichfield, 


164  LIFE    OF   JOUNS,N.  *^*' 

fif  order  of  late,  and  have  very  much  neglected  my  affairs.  You  have  acted 
very  prudently  with  regard  to  Levett's  aflair,  which  will,  I  think,  not  at  all 
embarrass  me,  for  you  may  promise  him,  that  the  mortgage  shall  be  taken  up 
at  Michaelmas,  or,  at  least,  some  time  between  that  and  Christmas ;  and  if  he 
requires  to  have  it  done  sooner,  I  will  endeavour  it.  I  make  no  doubt,  by  that 
time,  of  cither  doing  it  myself,  or  persuading  some  of  my  friends  to  do  it 
for  me. 

"  Please  to  acquaint  him  with  it,  and  let  me  know  if  he  be  satisfied.  When 
he  once  called  on  me,  his  name  was  mistaken,  and  therefore  I  did  not  se.e  him; 
but,  finding  the  mistake,  wrote  to  him  the  same  day,  but  never  heard  more  of 
him,  though  I  entreated  him  to  let  me  know  where  to  wait  on  him.  You 
frighted  me,  you  little  gipsy,  with  your  black  wafer,  for  I  had  forgot  you  were 
in  mourning,  and  was  afraid  your  letter  had  brought  me  ill  news  of  my  mother, 
whose  death  is  one  of  the  few  calamities  on  which  I  think  with  terror.  I  long 
to  know  how  she  does,  and  how  you  all  do.  Your  poor  mamma  is  come  home, 
but  very  weak ;  yet  I  hope  she  will  grow  better,  else  she  shall  go  into  the 
country.  She  is  now  up  stairs,  and  knows  not  of  my  writing.  I  am,  dear 
miss,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

It50— 1751. 

'ohnson  begins  "The  Rambler" — His  Prayer  on  commencing  the  Undertaking— Obligatlocj 
to  Correspondents — Adversaria — Success  of  the  Rambler — Collected  into  Volumes — 
"Beauties"  of  the  Rambler— Writes  a  Prologue,  to  be  spoken  by  Garrick,  for  the  Benefit 
of  Milton's  Grand-daughter — "  Life  of  Cheynel " — Lauder's  Forgery  against  Slilton-- 
Mrs.  Anna  Williams. 

In  1750  Johnson  came  forth  m  the  character  for  which  he  was  emi- 
nently quaUfied,  a  majestic  teacher  of  moral  and  religious  wisdom. 
The  vehicle  which  he  chose  was  that  of  a  periodical  paper,  which  he 
knew  had  been,  upon  former  occasions,  employed  with  great  success. 
The  Tatler,  Spectator,  and  Guardian,  were  the  last  of  the  kind  pub- 
lished in  England,  which  had  stood  the  test  of  a  long  trial  ;  and 
such  an  interval  had  now  elapsed  since  their  publication,  as  made 
him  justly  think  that,  to  many  of  his  readers,  this  form  of  instruc- 
tion would,  in  some  degree,  have  the  advantage  of  novelty.  A  few 
days  before  the  first  of  his  Essays  came  out,  there  started  another 
competitor  for  fame  in  the  same  form,  under  the  title  of  "  The 
Tatler  Revived,"  which,  I  believe,  was  "  born  but  to  die."  John- 
son was,  I  think,  not  very  happy  in  the  choice  of  his  title, — "  The 
Rambler  ;"  which  certainly  is  not  suited  to  a  series  of  grave  and 
moral  discourses  ;  which  the  Italians  have  literally,  but  ludicrously, 
translated  by  II  Vagahondo  ;  and  which  has  been  lately  assumed  as 
the  denomination  of  a  vehicle  of  licentious  tales,  "  The  Rambler's 
Magazine."  He  gave  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  the  following  account  of 
its  getting  this  name  :  "  What  must  be  done,  Sir,  will  be  done. 
"When  I  was  to  begin  publishing  that  paper,  I  was  at  a  loss  how  to 
name  it.  I  sat  down  at  night  upon  my  bedside,  and  resolved  that  I 
would  not  go  to  sleep  till  I  had  fixed  its  title.  The  Rambler  seemed 
the  Dest  that  occurred,  and  I  took  it."  ' 

'  I  have  heard  Dr.  Warton  mention,  that  he  was  at  Mr.  Rcbert  Dodsley's  with  the  lat* 

165 


166  LIFE   OF  JOHNSON.  *''•• 

With  what  devout  and  conscientious  sentiments  this  paper  was 
undertaken,  is  evidenced  by  the  following  prayer,  which  he  composed 
and  offered  up  on  the  occasion  : 

"  Almighty  God,  the  giver  of  all  good  things,  without  whose  help  all  labour 
is  ineffectual,  and  without  whose  grace  all  wisdom  is  folly :  grant,  I  beseech 
Thee,  that  in  this  undertaking  thy  Holy  Spirit  may  not  be  withheld  from  me, 
but  that  I  may  promote  thy  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  myself  and  others  t 
g»ant  this,  0  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  thy  son,  Jesus  Cuuist.     Amen." 

The  first  paper  of  the  Rambler  was  published  on  Tuesday  the  20th 
of  March,  1149-50  ;  and  its  author  was  enabled  to  continue  it, 
without  interruption,  every  Tuesday  and  Saturday,  till  Saturday  the 
14th  of  March,  1152,  on  which  day  it  closed.  This  is  a  strong  con- 
firmation of  the  truth  of  a  remark  of  his,  which  I  have  had  occasion 
to  quote  elsewhere  [Aug.  16,  1113],  that  "a  man  may  write  at  any 
time,  if  he  will  set  himself  doggedly  to  it  ;"  for,  notwithstanding  his 
constitutional  indolence,  his  depression  of  spirits,  and  his  labour  in 
carrying  on  his  Dictionary,  he  answered  the  stated  calls  of  the  press 
twice  a  week  from  the  stores  of  his  mind  during  all  that  time  ; 
having  received  no  assistance,  except  four  billets  in  No.  10,  by 
Miss  Mulso,  now  Mrs.  Chapone  ;  No.  30,  by  Mrs.  Catherine  Talbot ; 
No.  91,  by  Mr.  Samuel  Richardson,  whom  he  describes  in  an  intro- 
ductory note,  as  "  an  author  who  has  enlarged  the  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  taught  the  passions  to  move  at  the  command  of 
virtue  ;"  and  Numbers  44  and  100,  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter. 

Posterity  will  be  astonished  when  they  are  told,  upon  the 
authority  of  Johnson  himself,  that  many  of  these  discourses,  which 
we  should  suppose  had  been  laboured  with  all  the  slow  attention  of 
literary  leisure,  were  written  in  haste  as  the  moment  pressed,  with- 
out even  being  read  over  by  him  before  they  were  printed.'     It  can 

Mr.  Moore,  and  several  of  his  friends,  considei-ing  what  sliould  be  the  name  of  the  periodical 
paper  which  Moore  had  undertalien.  Garrick  proposed  the  Salad,  whicli,  by  a  curious  coin- 
cidence, was  afterwards  applied  to  himself  by  Goldsmith : — 

"  Our  Garrick's  a  salad,  for  in  him  we  see 
Oil,  vinegar,  sugar,  and  saltness  agree  !" 

At  last,  the  company  having  separated,  without  anything  of  which  they  approved  havinf 
been  offered,  Dodsley  himself  thought  of  The  World. 

'  The  fine  Rambler  on  Procrastination  [No  184]  was  hastily  composed  in  Sir  Joshua  Key 
nold's  parlour,  while  the  boy  waited  to  carry  it  to  the  press,  and  numberless  are  theicetaacei 
of  his  writing  under  the  immediate  pressure  of  importunity  or  distress. — Piozzi. 


JBtit.  C  THE    RAMBLER — ADVERSARIA.  16t 

be  accounted  for  only  in  this  way;  that,  by  reading  and  meditation, 
and  a  very  close  inspection  of  life,  he  had  accumulated  a  great  fund 
of  miscellaneous  knowledge,  which,  by  a  peculiar  promptitude  of 
mind,  was  ever  ready  at  his  call,  and  which  he  had  constantly 
accustomed  himself  to  clothe  in  the  most  apt  and  energetic  expres- 
sion. Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  once  asked  him,  by  what  means  he  had 
attained  his  extraordinary  accuracy  and  flow  of  language.  He  told 
him,  that  he  had  early  laid  it  down  as  a  fixed  rule  to  do  his  best  on 
every  occasion,  and  in  every  company :  to  impart  whatever  he 
knew  in  the  most  forcible  language  he  could  put  it  in  ;  and  that  by 
constant  practice,  and  never  suffering  any  careless  expressions  to 
escape  him,  or  attempting  to  deliver  his  thoughts  without  arranging 
them  in  the  clearest  manner,  it  became  habitual  to  him. 

Yet,  he  was  not  altogether  unprepared  as  a  periodical  writer  :  for 
I  have  in  my  possession  a  small  duodecimo  volume,  in  which  he  has 
written,  in  the  form  of  Mr.  Locke's  Common-Place  Book,  a  variety 
of  hints  for  essays  on  different  subjects.  He  has  marked  upon  the 
first  blank  leaf  of  it,  "  To  the  128th  page,  collections  for  the  Ram- 
bler ;"  and  in  another  place,  "  In  fifty-two  there  were  seventeen 
provided  ;  in  97 — 21  ;  in  190 — 25."  At  a  subsequent  period  (pro- 
bably after  the  work  was  finished)  he  added,  "  In  all,  taken  of  pro- 
vided materials,  30." ' 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  who  is  unlucky  upon  all  occasions,  tells  us, 
that  "  this  method  of  accumulating  intelligence  had  been  practised 
by  Mr.  Addison,  and  is  humorously  described  in  one  of  the  Specta- 
tors [No.  46.],  wherein  he  feigns  to  have  dropped  his  paper  of 
notanda,  consisting  of  a  diverting  medley  of  broken  sentences  and 
loose  hints,  which  he  tells  us  he  had  collected,  and  meant  to  make 
use  of.  Much  of  the  same  kind  is  Jolmson's  Adversaria."*  But 
the  truth  is,  that  there  is  no  resemblance  at  all  between    them. 

-  This,  no  doubt,  means,  that,  of  the  first  52  Ramblers,  17  had  been  prepared,  and  so  on, 
till,  at  the  completion  of  the  whole  20S  numbers,  he  found  that  only  80  had  been  formed  of 
materials  previously  provided. — Croker. 

2  In  this  instance  Mr.  Boswell  is  more  unlucky  than  Hawkins,  whose  account  is  by  no 
means  incoiTect.  He  knew  very  well,  and  distinctly  states,  that  Addison's  published 
"  Notanda  "  were  a  mere  pleasantry,  consisting  of  topics  drolly  selected  and  aiTanged;  but 
he  infers,  rationally  enough,  that  Addison  had  taken  the  idea  from  his  own  real  practice  ol 
collecting  notanda  ;  and  he  is  quite  justified  in  adding,  '  much  of  the  same  kind  are  John* 
Bon's  Adversaria." — Croker, 


168  LIFE  OF  JonKSON.  ^'■•• 

Addison's  note  was  a  fiction,  in  which  unconnected  fragments  of  his 
lucubrations  were  purposely  jumbled  together,  in  as  odd  a  manner 
as  he  could,  in  order  to  produce  a  laughable  effect :  whereas,  John- 
son's abbreviations  are  all  distinct,  and  applicable  to  each  subject  of 
which  the  head  is  mentioned. 

For  instance,  there  is  the  following  specimen  : 

Youth's  Entry^  &c. 

"  Baxter's  account  of  things  in  which  he  had  changed  his  mind  as  he  grew 
up.  Voluminous. — No  wonder. — If  every  man  was  to  tell,  or  mark,  on  how 
many  subjects  he  has  changed,  it  would  make  vols,  but  the  changes  not  always 
observed  by  man's  self. — From  pleasure  to  bus.  \hudness\  to  quiet ;  from 
thoughtfulness  to  reflect,  to  piety ;  from  dissipation  to  domestic,  by  impercept. 
gradat.  but  the  change  is  certain.  Dial  non  progredi,  progress,  esse  conspici' 
mus.     Look  back,  consider  what  was  thought  at  some  dist.  period. 

'■'■Hope  predom.  in  youth.  Mind  not  wilUnfjly  indulges  unpleasing  thoughts. 
The  world  lies  all  enamelled  before  him,  as  a  distant  prospect  sun-gilt;* — ine- 
qualities only  found  by  coming  to  it.  Love  is  to  be  all  joy — children  excellent. 
— Fame  to  be  constant — caresses  of  the  great — applauses  of  the  learned — 
smiles  of  Beauty. 

^'Ftar  of  disgrace — Bashfulness — Finds  things  of  less  importance.  Mis- 
carriages forgot  like  excellencies  ; — if  remembered,  of  no  import.  Danger  of 
sinking  into  negligence  of  reputation  ; — lest  the  fear  of  disgrace  destroy  actiy- 
ity. 

'■'Confidence  in  himself.  Long  tract  of  life  before  him. — No  thought  of  sick- 
ness.— Embarrassment  of  affairs. — 'Distraction  of  family.  Public  calamities. — 
No  sense  of  the  prevalence  of  bad  habits.  Negligent  of  time — ready  to  un- 
dertake— careless  to  pursue — all  changed  by  time. 

"Confident  of  others — unsuspecting  as  unexperienced — imagining  himself 
secure  against  neglect,  never  imagines  they  will  venture  to  treat  him  ill. 
Ready  to  trust ;  expecting  to  be  trusted.  Convinced  by  time  of  the  selfish- 
ness, the  meanness,  the  cowardice,  the  treachery  of  men. 

"Youth  ambitious,  as  thinking  honours  easy  to  be  had. 

"  Different  kinds  of  praise  pursued  at  different  periods.  Of  the  gay  in 
youth. — dang,  hurt,  &c.  despised. 

"Of  the  fancy  in  manhood.  Ambit.— stocks — bargains.— Of  the  wise  and 
sober  in  old  age — seriousness — formality — maxims,  but  general — only  of  the 
rich,  otherwise  age  is  happy — but  at  last  everything  referred  to  riches — no 
having  fame,  honour,  influence,  without  subjection  to  caprice. 

"Horace. 

1  This  most  beautiful  image  of  the  enchanting  delusion  of  youthful  prospect  has  not  beea 
used  in  any  of  .Johnson's  essa/s. 


•*'■*»•  *-•  i'HE   RAMBLER — ADVERSARtA.  169 

"Hard  it  would  be  if  men  entered  life  with  the  same  views  with  which  they 
leave  it,  or  left  as  they  enter  it. — No  hope — no  undertaking — no  regard  to  be- 
BHvolence — no  fear  of  disgrace,  &c. 

"  Youth  to  be  taught  the  piety  of  age — age  to  retain  the  honour  of  youth." 

This,  it  will  be  observed,  is  the  sketch  of  Number  196  of  the 
Rambler.     I  shall  gratify  my  readers  with  another  specimen  : 

"  Confederacies  difficult ;  why. 

"  Seldom  in  war  a  match  for  single  persons — nor  in  peace  ;  therefore  kings 
make  themselves  absolute.  Confederacies  in  learning — every  great  work  the 
work  of  one.  Bruy.  Scholars'  friendship  like  ladies.  Scribebamus,  &c.  Mart. 
The  apple  of  discord — the  laurel  of  discord — the  poverty  of  criticism.  Swift'.H 
opinion  of  the  power  of  six  geniuses  united.  That  union  scarce  possible. 
His  remarks  just  ;^man  a  social,  not  steady  nature.  Drawn  to  man  by  words, 
repelled  by  passions.  Orb  drawn  by  attraction,  rep.  [i-epelled\  by  centri- 
fugal. 

"  Common  danger  unites  by  crushing  other  passions — but  they  return 
Equality  hinders  compliance.  Superiority  produces  insolence  and  envy. 
Too  much  regard  in  each  to  private  interest ; — too  little. 

*'The  mischiefs  of  private  and  exclusive  societies. — The  fitness  of  social 
attraction  diffused  through  the  whole.  The  mischiefs  of  too  partial  love  of 
our  country.     Contraction  of  moral  duties. — 01  inloi,  ov  (piTt-og. 

"  Every  man  moves  upon  his  own  centre,  and  therefore  repels  others  from 
too  near  a  contact,  though  he  may  comply  with  some  general  laws. 

"  Of  confederacy  with  supei'iors  every  one  knows  the  inconvenience.  With 
equals,  no  authority ; — every  man  his  own  opinion — his  own  interest. 

"  Mail  and  wife  hardly  united  ; — scarce  ever  without  children.  Computation, 
if  two  to  one  against  two,  how  many  against  five  ?  If  confederacies  were 
easy— useless ; — many  oppresses  many. — If  possible  only  to  some,  dangerous. 
Principum  amicitiasy 

Here  we  see  the  embryo  of  Number  45  of  the  Adventurer  ;  and 
it  ?s  a  confirmation  of  what  I  shall  presently  have  occasion  to  men- 
tion, that  the  papers  in  that  collection  marked  T.  were  written  by 
Johnson. 

This  scanty  preparation  of  materials  will  not,  however,  much 
diminish  our  wonder  at  the  extraordinary  fertility  of  his  mind  ;  for 
the  proportion  which  they  bear  to  the  number  of  essays  which  he 
wrote,  is  very  small  ;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that  those  for  which  he 
had  made  no  preparation,  are  as  rich  and  as  highly  finished,  as 
VOL.  I.  8 


no  LIFE    OP   JOHNSO>r. 


iftrt. 


those  for  which  the  hints  were  lying  by  him.  It  is  also  to  be  ob- 
served, that  the  papers  formed  from  his  liints  are  worked  up  with 
such  strength  and  elegance,  that  we  almost  lose  sight  of  the  hints, 
which  become  like  "  drops  in  the  bucket."  Indeed,  in  several  in- 
stances, he  has  made  a  very  slender  use  of  them,  so  that  many  of 
them  remain  still  unapplied. 

As  the  Rambler  was  entirely  the  work  of  one  man,  there  was,  of 
course,  such  a  uniformity  in  its  texture,  as  very  much  to  exclude 
tlie  charm  of  variety  ;  and  the  grave  and  often  solemn  cast  of 
thinking,  which  distinguished  it  from  other  periodical  papers,  made 
it,  for  some  time,  not  generally  liked.  So  slowly  did  this  excellent 
work,  of  which  twelve  editions  have  now  issued  from  the  press,  gain 
upon  the  world  at  large,  that  even  in  the  closing  number  the  author 
says,  "  I  have  never  been  much  a  favourite  of  the  public."  * 

Yet,  very  soon  after  its  commencement,  there  were  who  felt  and 
acknowledged  its  uncommon  excellence.  Verses  in  its  praise  ap- 
peared in  the  newspapers  ;  and  the  editor  of  the  Gentleman's  Mag- 
azine mentions,  in  October,  his  having  received  several  letters  to 
the  same  purpose  from  the  learned.     "  The  Student,  or  Oxford  and 

1  The  Ramblers,  certainly,  were  little  noticed  at  first.  Smart,  the  poet,  first  mentioned 
them  to  me  as  excellent  papers,  before  I  had  heard  any  one  else  speak  of  them.  When  I  went 
into  Norfolk,  in  the  autumn  of  1751,  I  found  but  one  person  (the  Rev.  Mr.  Squires,  a  man  of 
learning,  and  a  general  purchaser  of  new  books)  who  knew  anything  of  them.  But  he  had 
been  misinformed  concerning  tlie  true  author ;  for  he  had  been  told  they  were  written  by  a 
Mr.  Johnson  of  Canterbury,  the  son  of  a  clergyman  who  had  had  a  controversy  with  Bentley, 
and  who  had  changed  the  readings  of  the  old  ballad  entitled  Norton  Falgaie^  in  Bentley 's 
bold  style  («ieo  periculo),  till  not  a  single  word  of  the  original  song  was  left.  Before  I  left 
Norfolk,  in  the  year  1760,  the  Ramblers  were  in  high  favour  among  persons  of  learning  and 
good  taste.  Others  there  were,  devoid  of  both,  who  said  that  the  hard  words  in  the  Rambler 
were  used  by  the  author  to  render  his  Dictionary  indispensably  necessary. — Burnet. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  correct  a  slight  error  in  the  preceding  note,  though  it  does  not  at 
all  affect  the  principal  object  of  Dr.  Burney's  remark.  The  clergyman  above  alluded  to,  was 
Mr.  Richard  Johnson,  schoolmaster  at  Nottingham,  who,  in  1717,  published  an  octavo  volume 
in  Latin,  against  Bentley's  edition  of  Horace,  entitled  "Aristarchus  Anti-Bentleianus."  In  the 
middle  of  this  Latin  work  (as  Mr.  Bindley  observes  to  me)  he  has  introduced  four  pages  of  Eng- 
lish criticism,  in  which  he  ludicrously  corrects,  in  Bentley's  manner,  one  stanza,  not  of  the 
ballad  the  hero  of  which  lived  in  Norton  Falgate,  but  of  a  ballad  celebrating  the  achievement* 
of  Tcm  Bostock,  who,  in  a  sea-fight,  performed  prodigies  of  valour.  The  stanza  on  which 
this  ingenious  writer  has  exercised  his  wit,  is  as  follows  : 

"  Then  old  Tom  Bostock  he  fell  to  the  work. 
He  pray'd  like  a  Christian,  but  fought  like  a  Turk, 
And  cut  'em  off  all  in  a  jerk. 
Which  nobody  can  deav."  etc. — M^lobs. 


^■f^'-^l-  THE    RAMBLER.  HI 

Cambridge  Monthly  Miscellany,"  in  which  Mr.  Bonnel  Thornton  and 
Mr.  Colman '  were  the  principal  writers,  describes  it  as  "  a  work 
that  exceeds  anything  of  the  kind  ever  published  in  this  kingdom, 
some  of  the  Spectators  excepted — if  indeed  they  may  be  excepted." 
And  afterwards,  "May  the  public  favours  crown  his  merits,  and  may 
not  the  English,  under  the  auspicious  reign  of  George  the  Second, 
neglect  a  man,  who,  had  he  lived  in  the  first  century,  would  have 
been  one  of  the  greatest  favourites  of  Augustus."  This  flattery  of 
the  monarch  had  no  effect.  It  is  too  well  known,  that  the  second 
George  never  was  an  Augustus  to  learning  and  genius.* 

Johnson  told  me,  witli  an  amiable  fondness,  a  little  pleasing  cir- 
cumstance relative  to  this  work.  Mrs.  Johnson,  in  whose  judgment 
and  taste  he  had  great  confidence,  said  to  him,  after  a  few  numbers 
of  the  Rambler  had  come  out,  "  I  thought  very  well  of  you  before  : 
but  I  did  not  imagine  you  could  have  written  anything  equal  to 
this."     Distant  praise,  from  whatever  quarter,  is  not  so  delightful  as 

'  I  doubt  if  Colman  wrote  in  tliis  work.  Smart  was  the  principal  contributor,  and  T.  War- 
ton  a  very  considerable  one. — Chalmeus. 

^  Richardson,  the  author  of  Clarissa,  to  whom  Cave  had  sent  the  first  five  numbers  of  the 
Rambler,  became,  as  they  proceeded,  "  so  inexpressibly  pleased  with  them,"  that  he  wrote  to 
Cave  in  strong  commendation,  and  intimated  his  conviction  (the  name  of  the  author  being 
still  a  secret),  tliat  Johnson  was  the  only  man  who  could  write  them.  Cave,  in  his  answer 
dated  "  St.  John's  Gate,  August  23,  1750,"  says  : — 

"Excuse  this  ramble  from  the  purpose  of  your  letter.  I  return  to  answer,  that  Mr.  John- 
son is  the  Great  Ramblur,  being,  as  you  observe,  the  only  man  who  can  furnish  two  sucli  pa- 
pers in  a  week,  besides  his  other  great  business,  and  has  not  been  assisted  with  above  three. 
I  may  discover  to  you,  that  the  world  is  not  so  kind  to  itself  as  you  wish  it.  The  encourage- 
ment, as  to  sale,  is  not  in  proportion  to  the  high  character  given  to  the  work  by  the  judicious, 
not  to  say  the  rr.ptures  expressed' by  the  few  that  do  read  it;  but  its  being  tlms  relishiid  in 
numbers  gives  hope  that  the  sets  must  go  off,  as  it  is  a  fine  paper,  and,  considering  the  late 
Lour  of  having  the  copy,  tolerably  printed. 

"  When  the  author  was  to  be  kept  private  (which  was  the  first  scheme),  two  gentlemen,  oe- 
longing  to  the  Prince's  court,  came  to  me  to  inquire  his  name,  in  order  to  do  him  service  ; 
and  also  brought  a  list  of  seven  gentlemea  to  be  served  with  the  Rambler.  As  I  was  not  at 
liberty,  an  inference  was  drawn,  that  I  was  desirous  to  keep  to  myself  so  excellent  a  writer. 
Soon  after,  Mr.  Doddington  sent  a  letter  directed  to  the  Ramhler,  inviting  him  to  his  house, 
when  he  should  be  disposed  to  enlarge  his  acquaintance.  In  a  subsequent  number  a  kind  of 
excuse  was  made,  with  a  liint  that  a  good  writer  might  not  appear  to  advantage  in  conversa- 
iion.  Since  that  time  several  circumstances,  and  Mr.  Oarrick  and  others,  who  knew  the  au- 
thor's powers  and  style  from  the  first,  unadvisedly  asserting  their  (but)  suspicions,  overturned 
the  scheme  of  socresy.     (About  which  tliere  is  also  one  paper.) 

"I  have  had  letters  of  approbation  from  Dr  Young,  Dr.  Hartley,  Dr.  Sharp,  Miss  Carter, 
etc.,  etc.,  most  of  them,  like  you,  setting  them  in  a  rank  equal,  and  some  superior,  to  the 
Spectators  (of  which"!  have  not  read  many,  for  the  reasons  which  you  assign)  ;  but,  notwith- 
standing  such  recommendation,  whether  the  price  of  twopence,  or  the  unfavourable  season  of 
their  first  publication,  liiudcrs  tlic  denjand,  no  boast  ;an  be  made  of  it." — Crokek. 


112  .  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ''''**■ 

that  of  a  wife  whom  a  man  loves  aud  esteems.  Her  approbation 
may  be  said  to  "  come  home  to  his  bosom ;"  aud  being  so  near,  its 
effect  is  most  sensible  aud  permanent. 

Mr.  James  Elphiuston,  who  has  since  published  various  works, 
and  who  was  ever  esteemed  by  Johnson  as  a  worthy  man,  happened 
to  be  in  Scotland  while  the  Rambler  was  coming  out  in  single  pa- 
pers •  at  London.  With  laudable  zeal  at  once  for  the  improvement 
of  his  countrymen,  and  the  reputation  of  his  friend,  he  suggested  and 
took  the  charge  of  an  edition  of  those  Essays  at  Edinburgh,  which 
followed  progressively  the  London  publication.' 

The  following  letter  written  at  this  time,  though  not  dated,  will 
show  how  much  pleased  Johnson  was  with  this  publication,  and  what 
kindness  and  regard  he  had  for  Mr.  Elphiuston. 

Letter  17.  TO  MR.  JAMES  ELPHINSTON. 

[Jfo  dateJ] 

"  Dear  Sir  : — I  cannot  but  confess  the  failures  of  my  correspondence ;  but 
hope  the  same  regard  which  you  express  for  me  on  every  other  occasion,  will 
incline  you  to  forgive  me.  I  am  often,  very  often,  ill ;  and,  when  I  am  well, 
am  obliged  to  work:  and,  indeed,  have  never  much  used  myself  to  punctuality. 
You  are  however,  not  to  make  unkind  inferences,  when  I  forbear  to  reply  to 
your  kindness ;  for,  be  assured,  I  never  received  a  letter  from  you  without 
great  pleasure,  and  a  very  warm  sense  of  your  generosity  and  friendship,  which 
I  heartily  blame  myself  for  not  cultivating  veith  more  care.  In  this,  as  in  many 
other  cases,  I  go  wrong,  in  opposition  to  conviction ;  for  I  think  scarce  any 
temporal  good  equally  to  be  desired  with  the  regard  and  familiarity  of  worthy 
men.  I  hope  we  shall  be  some  time  nearer  to  each  other,  and  have  a  more 
ready  way  of  pouring  out  our  hearts. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  still  find  encouragement  to  proceed  in  your  publication  ; 
and  shall  beg  the  favour  of  six  more  volumes  to  add  to  my  former  six,  when 
you  can,  with  any  convenience,  send  them  me.  Please  to  present  a  set,  in  my 
name,  to  Mr.  Ruddimau,^  of  whom,  I  hear,  that  his  learning  is  not  his  highest 

'  It  was  executed  in  the  printing-oflBce  of  Sands,  Murray,  and  Cochran,  with  uncommon 
jlegance,  upon  writing-paper,  of  a  duodecimo  size,  and  with  the  greatest  correctness  :  and 
Mr.  Elphinston  enriched  it  with  translations  of  the  mottos.  When  completed,  it  made  eight 
landsome  volumes.  It  is,  unquestionably,  the  most  accurate  and  beautiful  edition  of  this 
sork ;  and  there  being  but  a  small  impression,  it  is  now  become  scarce,  and  sells  at  a  very 
high  price. 

2  Mr.  Thomas  Ruddiman,  the  learned  grammarian  of  Scotland,  well  known  for  his  various 
excellent  works,  and  for  his  accurate  editions  of  several  authors.  He  was  also  a  man  of  ttie 
most  worthy  private  character.  His  zeal  for  the  Royal  House  of  Stuart  did  not  render  bii^ 
'ess  estimable  in  Dr.  Johnson's  eye. — Boswell. 


•«TAT.  tl.  THE    RAMBLER.  1 T3 

excellence.  I  have  transcribed  the  mottos,  and  returned  ihem,  1  hope  not  toe 
late,  of  which  I  think  many  very  happily  performed.  Mr.  Cave  has  put  the 
last  in  the  Magazine,  in  which  I  think  he  did  well.  I  beg  of  you  to  write  soon, 
and  to  write  often,  and  to  write  long  letters,  which  I  hope  in  time  to  repay  you  ; 
but  you  must  be  a  patient  creditor.  I  have,  however,  this  of  gratitude,  that  1 
think  of  you  with  regard,  when  I  do  not,  perhaps,  give  the  proofs  which  1 
ought,  of  being.  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

This  year,  he  wrote  to  the  same  gentleman  another  letter  upon  a 
mournful  occasion. 

Letter  18.  TO  MR.  JAMES  ELPHINSTON. 

"  September  25, 1750. 

"  Dear  Sir  : — You  have,  as  I  find  by  every  kind  of  evidence,  lost  an  excel- 
lent mother;  and  I  hope  you  will  not  think  me  incapable  of  partaking  in  your 
grief.  I  have  a  mother,  now  eighty-two  years  of  age,  whom,  therefore,  I  must 
soon  lose,  unless  it  please  God  that  she  should  rather  mourn  for  me.  I  read 
the  letters  in  which  you  relate  your  mother's  death  to  Mrs.  Strahan,  and  think 
I  do  myself  honour,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  read  them  with  tears  ;  but  tears  are 
neither  to  you  nor  to  me  of  any  further  use,  when  once  the  tribute  of  nature 
has  been  paid.  The  business  of  life  summons  us  away  from  useless  grief,  and 
calls  us  to  the  exercise  of  those  virtues  of  which  we  are  lamenting  our  depri- 
vation. The  greatest  benefit  which  one  friend  can  confer  upon  another,  is  to 
guard,  and  excite,  and  elevate  his  virtues.  This  your  mother  will  still  per- 
form, if  you  diligently  preserve  the  memory  of  her  life,  and  of  her  death :  a 
life,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  useful,  wise,  and  innocent ;  and  a  death  resigned, 
peaceful,  and  holy.  I  cannot  forbear  to  mention,  that  neither  reason  nor 
revelation  denies  you  to  hope,  that  you  may  increase  her  happiness  by  obeying 
her  precepts ;  and  that  she  may,  in  her  present  state,  look  with  pleasure  upon 
every  act  of  virtue  to  which  her  instructions  or  example  have  contributed.^ 
Whether  this  be  more  than  a  pleasing  dream,  or  a  just  opinion  of  separate 
spirits,  is,  indeed,  of  no  great  importance  to  us,  when  we  consider  ourselves  as 
acting  under  the  eye  of  God  ;  yet,  surely,  there  is  something  pleasing  in  the 
behef,  that  our  separation  from  those  whom  we  love  is  merely  corporeal ;  and 
it  may  be  a  great  incitement  to  virtuous  friendship,  if  it  can  be  made  probable 
that  that  union  that  has  received  the  divine  approbation  shall  continue  to 
eternity 

"  There  is  one  expedient  by  which  you  may,  in  some  degree,  continue  her 
presence.  If  you  write  down  minutely  what  you  remember  of  her  from  your 
earliest  years,  you  will  read  it  with  great  pleasure,  and  receive  from  it  many 

1  This  letter  may  be  read  as  a  commentary  on  the  celebrated  passages  in  Johnson's  Me<it 
taMons,  relative  to  the  intermediate  state  of  departed  frie'".cls. 


'^4  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^''^ 

hints  of  soothing  recollection,  when  time  shall  remove  her  yet  farther  from 
you,  and  your  grief  shall  be  matured  to  veneration.  To  this,  however  painful 
for  the  present,  I  cannot  but  advise  you,  as  to  a  source  of  comfort  and  satis- 
faction in  the  time  to  come  ;  for  all  comfort  and  all  satisfaction  is  sincerely 
wished  you  by,  dear  Sir,  your  most  obliged,  most  obedient,  and  most  humble 

servant. 

"  Sam.  Johnson," 

The  Kambler  has  increased  in  fame  as  in  age.  Soon  after  its 
first  folio  edition  was  concluded,  it  was  published  in  six  duodecimo 
volumes;'  and  its  author  lived  to  see  ten  numerous  editions  of  it  in 
London,  besides  those  of  Ireland  and  Scotland. 

I  profess  myself  to  have  ever  entertained  a  profound  veneration 
for  the  astonishing  force  and  vivacity  of  mind  which  the  Rambler 
exhibits.  That  Johnson  had  penetration  enough  to  see,  and,  see 
ing,  would  not  disguise,  the  general  misery  of  man  in  this  state  or 
being,  may  have  given  rise  to  the  superficial  notion  of  his  being  too 
stern  a  philosopher.  But  men  of  reflection  will  be  sensible  that  he 
has  given  a  true  representation  of  human  existence,  and  that  he  has, 
at  the  same  time,  with  a  generous  benevolence,  displayed  every  con- 
solation which  our  state  aifords  us  ;  not  only  those  arising  from  the 
hopes  of  futurity,  but  such  as  may  be  attained  in  the  immediate  i^ro- 
gress  through  life.  He  has  not  depressed  the  soul  to  despondency 
and  indifference.  He  has  every  where  inculcated  study,  labour,  and 
exertion.  Nay,  he  has  shown,  in  a  very  odious  light,  a  man,  whose 
practice  is  to  go  about  darkening  the  views  of  others,  by  perpetual 
complaints'  of  evil,  and  awakening  those  considerations  of  danger 
and  distress  which  are,  for  the  most  part,  lulled  into  a  quiet  oblivion, 
This  he  has  done  very  strongly  in  his  character  of  Suspirius  (No, 
55),  from  which  Goldsmith  took  that  of  Croaker,  in  his  comedy  of 
"  The  Good-natured  Man,"  as  Johnson  told  me  he  had  acknow- 
ledged to  him,  and  which  is,  indeed,  very  obvious. 

'  This  is  not  quite  accurate.  In  the  Gent.  Mag.  for  November,  1751,  while  the  work  was 
yet  proceeding,  is  an  advertisement,  announcing  that  four  volumes  of  the  Rambler  would 
speedily  be  published  ;  and  it  is  believed  that  they  were  published  in  the  next  month.  The 
fifth  and  si.xth  volumes,  with  tables  of  contents  and  translations  of  the  mottos,  were  pub- 
lished in  July,  1752,  by  Payne  (the  original  publisher),  three  months  after  the  close  of  the 
work.  When  the  Rambler  was  collected  into  volumes,  Johnson  revised  and  collected  it 
.hroughout.  The  original  octavo  edition  not  having  fallen  into  Mr.  Boswell's  hands,  he  was 
not  aware  of  this  circumstance,  which  has  lately  been  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Alexander  Chat 
•aers,  in  his  edition  of  the  British  Essayists. — Maione. 


*TiT.  41.  THE    RAilBLER.  175 

To  point  out  the  numerous  subjects  whicli  the  Rambler  treats, 
with  a  dignity  and  perspicuity  which  are  there  united  in  a  manner 
which  we  shall  in  vain  look  for  anywhere  else,  w^ould  take  up  too 
large  a  portion  of  my  book,  and  would,  I  trust,  be  superfluous,  con 
sidering  how  universally  those  volumes  are  now  disseminated.  Even 
the  most  condensed  and  brilliant  sentences  which  they  contain,  and 
which  have  very  properly  been  selected  under  the  name  of  "  Beau- 
ties," '  are  of  considerable  bulk.  But  I  may  shortly  observe,  that 
the  Rambler  furnishes  such  an  assemblage  of  discourses  on  practical 
religion  and  moral  duty,  of  critical  investigations,  and  allegorical 
and  oriental  tales,  that  no  mind  can  be  thought  very  deficient  that 
has,  by  constant  study  and  meditation,  assimilated  to  itself  all  that 
may  be  found  there.  No.  T,  written  in  Passion  week,  on  abstrac- 
tion and  self-examination,  and  Xo.  110,  on  penitence  and  the  placa- 
bility of  the  Divine  Nature,  cannot  be  too  often  read.  No.  54,  on 
the  effect  whidi  the  death  of  a  friend  should  have  upon  us,  though 
rather  too  dispiriting,  may  be  occasionally  very  medicinal  to  the 
mind.  Every  one  must  suppose  the  writer  to  have  been  deeply  im- 
pressed by  a  real  scene ;  but  he  told  me  that  was  not  the  case ;  which 
shows  how  well  his  fancy  could  conduct  him  to  the  "  house  of 
laourning."  Some  of  these  more  solemn  papers,  I  doubt  not,  par- 
ticularly attracted  the  notice  of  Dr.  Young,  the  author  of  "  The 
Night  Thoughts,"  of  whom  my  estimation  is  such,  as  to  reckon  his 
applause  an  honour  even  to  Johnson.  I  have  seen  volumes  of  Dr. 
Young's  copy  of  the  Rambler,  iu  which  he  has  marked  the  passages 
which  he  thought  particularly  excellent,  by  folding  down  a  corner 
of  the  page;  and  such  as  he  rated  in  a  super-eminent  degree,  are 
marked  by  double  folds.  I  am  sorry  that  some  of  the  volumes  are 
lost.  Johnson  was  pleased  when  told  of  the  minute  attention  with 
which  Young  had  signified  his  approbation  of  his  essays. 

I  will  venture  to  say,  that  in  no  writings  whatever  can  be  found 
more  hark  and  steel  for  the  mind,  if  I  may  use  the  expression;  more 
that  can   brace  and  invigorate  every  manly  and  noble  sentiment. 

'  Dr.  Johnson  was  gratified  by  seeing  this  selection,  and  wrote  to  Mr.  Kearsley,  bookselliir 
In  Fleet  Street,  the  following  note  : 

"  Mr.  Johnson  sends  compliments  to  Mr.  Kearsley,  and  begs  the  favour  of  seeing  him  aa 
Boon  as  he  can.  Mr.  Kearsley  is  desired  to  bring  with  him  the  last  edition  of  what  he  hag 
honoured  "»'«  the  name  of  Beaches.     May  20, 17S2." 


176  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


17M 


No.  32,  on  patience,  even  under  extreme  misery,  is  wonderfully  lofty, 
and  as  much  above  the  rant  of  stoicism,  as  the  snn  of  Revelation  is 
brighter  than  the  twilight  of  Pagan  philosophy.  I  never  read  the 
following  sentence  without  feeling  my  frame  thrill :  "  I  think  there 
is  some  reason  for  questioning  whether  the  body  and  mind  are  not 
so  proportioned,  that  the  one  can  bear  all  which  can  be  inflicted  on 
the  other;  whether  virtue  cannot  stand  its  ground  as  long  as  life, 
and  whether  a  soul  well  principled  will  not  be  sooner  separated  than 
subdued." 

Though  instruction  be  the  predominant  purpose  of  the  Rambler, 
yet  it  is  enlivened  with  a  considerable  portion  of  amusement. 
Nothing  can  be  more  erroneous  than  the  notion  which  some  persons 
have  entertained,  that  Johnson  was  then  a  retired  author,  ignorant 
of  the  world;  and,  of  consequence,  that  he  wrote  only  from  his 
imagination,  when  he  described  characters  and  manners.  He  said 
to  me  that,  before  he  wrote  that  work,  he  had  been  "  running  about 
the  world,"  as  he  expressed  it,  more  than  almost  any  body;  and  I 
have  heard  him  relate,  with  much  satisfaction,  that  several  of  the 
characters  in  the  Rambler  were  drawn  so  naturally,  that  when  it 
first  circulated  in  numbers,  a  club  in  one  of  the  towns  in  Essex  ''• 
imagined  themselves  to  be  severally  exhibited  in  it,  and  were  much 
incensed  against  a  person  who,  they  suspected,  had  thus  made  them 
objects  of  public  notice;  nor  were  they  quieted  till  authentic  assur- 
ance was  given  them,  that  the  Rambler  was  written  by  a  person 
who  had  never  heard  of  any  one  of  them.  Some  of  the  characters 
'  are  believed  to  have  been  actually  drawn  from  the  Mfe,  particularly 

I  1  have  heard  Mr.  Murphy  relate  a  very  singular  story,  while  Dr.  Johnson  was  present. 
When  first  the  Ramblers  came  out,  they  attracted  the  notice  of  a  society  who  met  every 
Saturday  evening  during  the  summer,  at  Rumford  in  Essex,  and  were  known  by  the  name  of 
the  Bowling-green  Club.  These  men,  seeing  one  day  the  character  of  Leviculus,  the  fortune- 
hunter,  or  Tetrica,  the  old  maid ;  another  day,  some  account  of  a  person  who  spent  his  life  in 
hoping  for  a  legacy,  or  of  him  who  is  always  prying  into  other  folks' affairs ;  began  sura 
enougli  to  think  they  were  betrayed,  and  that  one  of  the  coterie  sat  down  to  divert  himsell' 
by  giving  to  the  public  the  portrait  of  all  the  rest.  Filled  with  wrath  against  the  traitor  of 
Rumford,  one  of  them  resolved  to  write  to  the  printer,  and  inquire  the  author's  name . 
Samuel  Johnson  was  the  reply.  No  more  was  necessary  ;  Samuel  Johnson  was  the  name 
of  the  curate,  and  soon  did  each  begin  to  load  him  with  reproaches  for  turning  ois  friends  into 
ridicule  in  a  manner  so  cruel  and  unprovoked.  In  vain  did  the  guiltless  curate  pretest  his  inno- 
cence ;  one  was  sure  that  Aliger  meant  Mr.  Twigg,  and  that  Cupidus  was  but  another  name 
for  neighbour  Baggs  ;  till  the  poor  parson,  unable  to  contend  any  longer,  rode  to  London,  and 
hrought  them  full  satisfaction  concerning  the  writer. — Piozzi. 


^f^f-*^-  THE    RAMBLER.  171 

that  of   Prospero  from   Garrick,    who   never  entirely  forgave   its 
pointed  satire. 

For  instances  of  fertility  of  fancy,  and  accurate  description  of 
real  life,  I  appeal  to  No.  19,  a  man  who  wanders  from  one  profes- 
sion to  another,  with  most  plausible  reasons  for  every  change  : 
No.  34,  female. fastidiousness  and  timorous  refinement:  No.  82,  a 
Virtuoso  who  has  collected  curiosities:  No.  88,  pretty  modes  of 
entertaining  a  company,  and  conciliating  kindness:  No.  182,  fortune- 
hunting:  No.  194,  195,  a  tutor's  account  of  the  follies  of  his  pupil: 
No.  19t,  198,  legacy-hunting.  He  has  given  a  specimen  of  his  nice 
observation  of  the  mere  external  appearances  of  life,  in  the  follow- 
ing passage  in  No.  179,  against  affectation,  that  frequent  and  most 
disgusting  quality:  "He  that  stands  to  contemplate  the  crowds  that 
fill  the  streets  of  a  populous  city,  will  see  many  passengers,, whose 
air  and  motions  it  will  be  difficult  to  behold  without  contempt  and 
laughter;  but  if  he  examine  what  are  the  appearances  that  thus 
powerfully  excite  his  risibility,  he  will  find  among  them  neither 
poverty  nor  disease,  nor  any  involuntary  or  painful  defect.  The 
disposition  to  derision  and  insult  is  awakened  by  the  softness  of 
foppery,  the  swell  of  insolence,  the  liveliness  of  levity,  or  the 
solemnity  of  grandeur;  by  the  sprightly  trip,  the  stately  stalk,  the 
formal  strut,  and  the  lofty  mien ;  by  gestures  intended  to  catch  the 
eye,  and  by  looks  elaborately  formed  as  evidences  of  import- 
ance." * 

Every  page  of  the  Rambler  shows  a  mind  teeming  with  classical 
allusion  and  poetical  imagery  :  illustrations  from  other  writers  are, 
upon  all  occasions,  so  ready,  and  mingle  so  easily  in  his  periods,  that 
the  whole  appears  of  one  uniform  vivid  texture. 

The  style  of  this  work  has  been  censured  by  some  shallow  critics 
as  involved  and  turgid,  and  abounding  with  antiquated  and  hard 
words.  So  ill-founded  is  the  first  part  of  this  objection,  that  I  will 
challenge  all  who  may  honour  this  book  with  a  perusal,  to  point  out 
any  English  writer  whose  language  conveys  his  meaning  with  equal 

>  Of  the  allegorical  papers  In  the  Rambler,  Labour  and  Rest  (No.  33)  was  Johnson's 
favourite  ;  but  Serotinus  (No.  165),  the  man  who  returns  late  in  life  to  receive  honours  inJiia 
Dative  country,  and  meets  with  mortification  instead  of  respect,  was  considered  by  nini  as  « 
masterpiece  in  the  science  of  life  and  manners. — Piozzi. 

8* 


178  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  "*•> 

force  aud  perspicuity.*  It  must,  indeed,  be  allowed,  that  the  struc- 
ture of  his  sentences  is  expanded,  and  often  has  somewhat  of  the 
inversion  of  Latin  ;  and  that  he  delighted  to  express  familiar 
thoughts  in  philosophical  language,  being  in  this  the  reverse  of 
Socrates,  who,  it  is  said,  reduced  philosophy  to  the  simplicity  of 
common  life.  But  let  us  attend  to  what  he  himsel]"  says  in  his  con- 
cluding paper  : — "  When  common  words  were  less  pleasmg  to  the 
ear,  or  less  distinct  in  their  signification,  I  have  famiharised  the 
terms  of  philosophy,  by  applying  them  to  popular  ideas."  And,  as 
to  the  second  part  of  this  objection,  upon  a  late  careful  revision  of 
the  work,  I  can  with  confidence  say,  that  it  is  amazing  how  few  of 
those  words,  for  which  it  has  been  unjustly  characterised,  are 
actually  to  be  found  in  it  ;  I  am  sure,  not  the  proportion  of  one  to 
each  paper.''  This  idle  charge  has  been  echoed  from  one  babbler  to 
another,  who  have  confounded  Johnson's  Essays  with  Johnson's 
Dictionary  ;  and  because  he  thought  it  right  in  a  lexicon  of  our  lan- 
guage to  collect  many  words  which  had  fallen  into  disuse,  but  were 
supported  by  great  authorities,  it  has  been  imagined  that  all  of 
these  have  been  interwoven  into  his  own  compositions.     That  some 

'  Yet  his  style  did  not  escape  the  harmless  shafts  of  pleasant  humour ;  for  the  ingenious 
Bonnel  Thornton  published  a  mock  Rambler  iri  the  Drury  Lane  Journal. — Boswell. 

*  Mr.  Boswell's  zeal  carries  him  too  far :  Johnson's  style,  especially  in  the  Rambler,  is  fre- 
quently turgid,  even  to  ridicule;  but  he  has  been  too  oftened  censured  with  a  malicious  flip- 
pancy; which  Boswell  may  be  excused  for  resenting ;  and  even  graver  critics  have  sometimes 
treated  him  with  inconsiderate  injustice  ;  for  instance,— The  Rev.  Dr.  Burrowes  (now  Dean  of 
Gorki,  in  an  "  Essay  on  the  Style  of  Dr.  Johnson,"  published  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Tran- 
sactions of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy  (17S7),  observes : — 

"Johnson  says,  that  he  has  rarely  admitted  any  word  not  authorized  by  former  writers; 
hut  where  are  we  to  seek  authorities  for 'resuscitation,  orbity,  volant,  fatuity,  divaricate, 
asinine,  narcotic,  vulnerary,  empireumatic,  papilionaceous,'  and  innumerable  others  of  the 
same  stamp,  which  abound  in  and  disgrace  his  pages? — for  'obtund,  disruption,  sensory,  or 
panoply,'  all  occurring  in  the  short  compass  of  a  single  essay  in  the  Rambler ;  or  for  '  crema- 
tion, horticulture,  germination,  and  decussation,'  within  a  few  pages  in  his  Life  of  Browne? 
They  may  be  found,  perhaps,  in  the  works  of  former  writers,  but  they  make  no  part  of  the 
English  language.  They  are  the  illegitimate  offspring  of  learning  by  vanity."  It  is  wonder- 
ful, that,  instead  of  asking  where  these  words  were  to  be  founfl.  Dr.  Burrowes  did  not  think 
of  referring  to  Johnson's  own  Dictionary.  He  would  have  found  good  authorities  for  almost 
every  one  of  them ;  for  instance,  for  resuscitatio7i,  Milton  and  Bacon  are  quoted ;  for  volant, 
>Iilton  and  Phillips;  ior  fatuity,  Arbuthnot ;  for  asinine,  Milton;  for  narcotic  and  vulne- 
rary, Browne;  for  germination,  Bacon^  and  so  on.  But  although  these  authorities,  which 
Dr.  Burrowes  might  have  found  in  the  Dictionary,  are  a  sufficient  answer  to  his  question,  let 
iti»e  also  observed,  that  many  of  these  words  were  in  use  in  more  familiar  authors  than  John- 
»on  chose  to  quote,  and  that  the  majority  of  them  are  now  become  familiar,  -rhich  is  a  sulB- 
pjent  proof  that  the  Enpilish  language  has  not  considered  them  as  illegitimate.-  -C«oeer, 


*'-'^-  *1-  THE    RAMBLER STYLE.  179 

of  tliem  have  been  adopted  by  him  uuiiecessarily,  may,  perhaps,  be 
all.M'ed  :  but,  in  general,  they  are  evidently  an  advantage  ;  foi 
without  them  his  stately  ideas  would  be  confined  and  cramped. 
"  He  that  thinks  with  more  extent  than  another,  will  want  words 
of  larger  meaning."  [Idler,  No.  10.]  He  once  told  me,  that  he 
had  formed  his  style  upon  that  of  Sir  William  Temple,  and  upon 
Chambers's  Proposal  for  his  Dictionary.'  He  certainly  was  mis- 
taken ;  or  if  he  imagined  at  first  that  he  was  imitating  Temple,  h 
was  very  unsuccessful  ; '  for  nothing  can  be  more  unlike  than  the 
simplicity  of  Temple,  and  the  richness  of  Johnson.  Their  styles  differ 
as  plain  cloth  and  brocade.  Temple,  indeed,  seems  equally  erroneous 
in  supposing  that  he  himself  had  formed  his  style  upon  Sandys's 
View  of  the  State  of  Religion  in  the  Western  Parts  of  the  World. 

The  style  of  Johnson  was,  undoubtedly,  much  formed  upon  that 
of  the  great  writers  in  the  last  century.  Hooker,  Bacon,  Sanderson, 
Hakewill,  and  others  ;  those  "  Giants,"  as  they  were  well  charac- 
terised by  A  GREAT  Personage,  whose  authority,  were  I  to  name  him, 
would  stamp  r  reverence  on  the  opinion.^ 

"\V^e  may,  with  the  utmost  propriety,  apply  to  his  learned  style 
ihat  passage  of  Horace,  a  part  of  which  he  has  taken  as  the  motto 
to  his  Dictionary  : — 

"  Cum  tabulis  animum  censoris  sumet  honesti ; 
Audcbit  qufecumque  pariim  splcndoris  habebunt, 
Et  sine  pondere  erunt,  et  hoiiore  indigna  ferentur, 
Verba  movere  loco,  quanivis  iuvita  recedant, 
Et  verseutur  adhuc  intra  penetralia  Vestae. 
Obscurata  diu  populo  bonus  eruet,  atque 
Proferet  in  lucem  specioaa  vocabula  rerum, 
Qua3  priscis  memorata  Catonibiis  atque  Cethegis, 
Nunc  situs  in  formis  premit  et  deserta  vetustas : 
Adsciscet  nova,  qu^  genitor  produxerit  usus  : 

'  Chambers's  Proposal  for  a  second  edition  of  his  Dictionary,  was  probably  in  circulation 
when  Johnson  first  came  to  London. — Malone. 

"  See  under  April  9,  1778 ;  wher^,  in  a  conversation  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  Johnson  him- 
self  mentions  the  particular  improvements  which  Temple  made  in  the  English  style. — MiLONK. 

3  Hooker  he  admired  for  his  logical  precision,  Sanderson  for  his  acuteness,  and  Taylor  for 
his  amazing  erudition  ;  Sir  Thomas  Browne  for  his  penet-  ation,  and  Cowley  for  the  ease  and 
unaffected  structure  of  his  periods.  The  tinsel  of  Sprat  disgusted  him,  and  he  could  but  just 
endure  tlie  smooth  verbosity  of  Tillotson.  Hammond  and  Barrow  he  thought  involved  ;  and 
of  the  latter  that  he  was  unnecessarilj  prolix. — H.vwkins. 


ISO  Life  of  johnsoK.  1'8^ 

Vehemens,  et  liquidus,  puroque  simillimus  amni, 
Fundet  opes  Latiumque  beabit  divite  lingua." 

Epist.  lib.  ii.  ep.  2.'    . 

To  SO  great  a  master  of  thinkiug,  to  one  of  such  vast  and  various 
knowledge  as  Johnson,  might  have  been  allowed  a  liberal  indaJ- 
euce  of  that  licence  which  Horace  claims  in  another  place  : — 

"  Si  forte  necessse  est 


ludiciis  monstrare  recentibus  abdita  rerum, 
Fingere  cinctutis  non  exaudita  Cethegis 
Continget ;  dabiturque  licentia  sunipta  pudentur : 
Et  nova  fictaque  nuper  habebunt  verba  fidem,  si 
Gi-Eeco  fonte  cadant,  parce  detorta.     Quid  autem 
Caecilio  Plautoque  dabit  Romanus,  adeniptum 
Virgilio  Varioque  ?     Ego  cur,  acquirere  pauca 
Si  possum,  invideor  ;  cum  lingua  Catonis  et  Enni 
Sernionem  patrium  ditaverit,  et  nova  rerum 
Nomina  protulerit?     Licuit,  semperque  licebit 
Signatum  prsesente  nota  producere  nomen." 

De  Arte  Poet.* 

'   •'  But  liow  severely  with  themselves  proceed 

The  men,  who  wrote  such  verse  as  we  can  read  ! 

Their  own  strict  judges,  not  a  word  they  spare 

That  wants  or  force,  or  light,  or  weight,  or  care, 

Howe'er  unwillingly  it  quits  its  place — 

Nay,  though  at  court  (pei-haps)  it  may  find  grace — 

Such  they'll  degrade  ;  and  sometimes,  in  its  stead, 

In  downright  charity  revive  the  dead  ; 

Mark  where  a  bold  expressive  phrase  appears. 

Bright  through  the  rubbish  of  some  hundred  years ; 

Command  old  words  that  long  have  slept  to  wake, 

W^ords  that  wise  Bacon  or  brave  Raleigh  spake ; 

Or  bid  the  new  be  English,  ages  hence, 

(For  Use  will  father  what's  begot  by  Sense  ;) 

Pour  the  full  tide  of  eloquence  along. 

Serenely  pure,  and  yet  divinely  strong. 

Rich  with  the  treasures  of  each  foreign  tongue." 

POPB,  IttOk. 

•    "  Words  must  be  chosen  and  be  placed  will  skill: 
You  gain  your  point,  when,  by  the  noble  art 
Of  good  connection,  an  unusal  word 
Is  made  at  first  familiar  to  the  ear  ; 
But  if  you  write  of  things  abstruse  or  new. 
Some  of  your  own  inventing  may  be  used, 
So  it  be  seldom  and  discreetly  done  ; 
But  he  that  hopes  to  have  new  words  allow'd 


'*''^'^-  ^  THE   RAMBLER — STYLE.  1^1 

Yet  Johnson  assured  me,  that  he  had  not  taken  upon  him  to  add 
more  than  four  or  five  words  to  the  English  language,  of  his  own 
formation;  and  he  was  very  much  offended  at  the  general  licence  by 
no  means  "  modestly  taken"  in  his  time,  not  only  to  coin  new  words, 
but  to  use  many  words  in  senses  quite  different  from  their  established 
meaning,  and  those  frequently  very  fantastical. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne,  whose  life  Johnson  wrote,  was  remarkably 
fond  of  Anglo-Latin  diction;  and  to  his  example  we  are  to  ascribe 
Johnson's  sometimes  indulging  himself  in  this  kind  of  phraseology.* 
Johnson's  comprehension  of  mind  was  the  mould  for  his  language. 
Ead  his  conceptions  been  narrower,  his  expression  would  have  been 
jasier.  His  sentences  have  a  dignified  march;  and  it  is  certain  that 
siis  example  has  given  a  general  elevation  to  the  language  of  his 
•ountry,  for  many  of  our  best  writers  have  approached  very  near  to 
him;  and,  from  the  influence  which  he  has  had  ujdou  our  composi- 
tion, scarcely  anything  is  written  now  that  is  not  better  expressed 
than  was  usual  before  he  appeared  to  lead  the  national  taste." 

This  circumstance,  the  truth  of  which  must  strike  every  critical 
reader,  has  been  so  happily  enforced  by  Mr.  Courtenay,  in  his 
"  Moral  and  Literary  Character  of  Dr.  Johnson,"  that  I  cannot 
prevail  on  myself  to  withhold  it,  notwithstanding  his,  perhaps,  too 
great  partiality  for  one  of  his  friends  : 

Must  so  derive  them  from  the  Grecian  spring, 

As  they  may  seem  to  flow  without  constraint. 

Can  an  impartial  reader  discommend 

In  Varius  or  in  Virgil,  what  he  lilies 

In  Plautus  or  Cascilius  ?    Why  should  I 

Be  envied  for  tlie  little  I  invent, 

When  Ennius  and  Cato's  copious  style 

Have  so  enrich'ed  and  so  adorn'd  our  tongue? 

Men  ever  had,  and  ever  will  have,  leave 

To  coin  new  words  well  suited  to  the  age."  Roscommon. 
'  The  observation  of  his  having  imitated  Sir  Thomas  Browne  has  been  made  by  many  peo- 
ple; and  lately  it  has  been  insisted  on,  and  illustrated  by  a  variety  of  quotations  from 
Browne,  in  one  of  the  popular  Essays  written  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Knox,  master  of  Tunbridga 
School,  whom  I  have  set  down  in  my  list  as  one  of  those  who  have  sometimes  not  unsuccess- 
nilly  imitated  Dr.  Johnson's  style. 

'  The  distinguishing  excellence  of  Johnson's  inartiier,  both  in  speaking  and  writing,  con- 
Bists  in  the  apt  and  lively  illustrations  by  example,  with  which,  in  his  vigorous  sallies,  he 
enforces  his  just  and  acute  remarks  on  human  life  and  manners,  in  all  their  modes  and 
representations ;  the  character  and  charm  of  his  (style,  in  a  happy  choice  of  dignified  and 
appropriate  expressions,  and  that  masterly  involution  of  phrase,  by  which  he  contrives  tc 
bolt  the  prominent  idea  strongly  on  the  mind. — Biary  of  a  Lover  of  Literature. 


!S2  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ''^ 

"  By  nature's  gift  ordain'd  mankind  to  rule, 
He,  like  a  Titian,  form'd  his  brilliant  school ; 
And  taught  congenial  spirits  to  excel, 
While  from  his  lips  impressive  wisdom  fell. 
Our  boasted  Goldsmith  felt  the  sovereign  sway : 
From  him  derived  the  sweet,  yet  nervous  lay. 
To  Fame's  proud  cliff  he  bade  our  Kanaelle  rise : 
Hence  Reynolds'  pen  with  Reynolds'  pencil  vies. 
With  Johnson's  flame  melodious  Burney  glows, 
While  the  grand  strain  in  smoother  cadence  flows. 
And  you,  Malone,  to  critic  learning  dear. 
Correct  and  elegant,  refined  though  clear, 
By  studying  him,  acquired  that  classic  taste, 
Which  high  in  Shakspeare's  fane  thy  statue  placed. 
Near  Johnson  Steetens  stands  on  scenic  ground. 
Acute,  laborious,  fertile,  and  profound. 
Ingenious  Hawkesworth  to  this  school  we  owe. 
And  scarce  the  pupil  from  the  tutor  know. 
Here  early  parts  accomplish'd  Jones  sublimes, 
And  science  blends  with  Asia's  lofty  rhymes : 
Harmonious  Jones  !  who  in  his  splendid  strains 
Sings  Camdeo's  sports,  on  Agra's  flowery  plains, 
In  Hindu  fictions  while  we  fondly  trace 
Love  and  the  Muses,  deck'd  with  Attic  grace. 
Amid  these  names  can  Boswell  be  forgot, 
Scarce  by  North  Britons  now  esteem'd  a  Scot  ?  * 
Who  to  the  sage  devoted  from  bis  youth, 
Imbibed  from  him  the  sacred  love  of  truth  ; 
The  keen  research,  the  exercise  of  mind. 
And  that  best  art,  the  art  to  know  mankind. — 
Nor  was  his  energy  confined  alone 
To  friends  around  his  philosophic  throne ; 
Its  influence  wide  improved  our  lettered  isle, 
And  lucid  vigour  marked  the  general  style : 
At  Nile's  proud  waves,  swoln  from  their  oozy  bed, 

'  The  following  observation  in  Mr.  Boswell's  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides  "  many 
sufficiently  account  for  that  gentleman's  being  "  now  scarcely  esteemed  a  Scot"  by  many  of 
his  countrymen:  "If  he  (Dr.  Johnson)  was  particularly  prejudiced  against  the  Scots,  it  ia 
because  they  were  more  in  his  way ;  because  he  thought  their  success  in  England  rather 
exceeded  the  due  proportion  of  their  real  merit ;  and  because  he  could  not  but  see  in  them 
that  nationality  which,  I  believe,  no  liberal-minded  Scotchman  will  deny."  Mr.  Boswell, 
Indeed,  is  so  free  from  national  prejudices,  that  he  might  with  equal  propriety  have  been 
described  as — 

"  Scarce  by  South  Britons  now  esteem'd  a  Scot.— CouRTENAr." 


*''^'- ■*^-  THE    RAMBLER — STYLE  ]  83 

First  o'er  the  neighbouring  meads  majestic  spread  : 
Till  gathering  force,  they  more  and  more  expand, 
And  with  new  virtue  fertilise  the  land. 

Johnson's  language,  however,  must  be  allowed  to  be  too  mascu 
line  for  the  delicate  gentleness  of  female  writing.  His  ladies, 
therefore,  seem  strangely  formal,  even  to  ridicule;  and  are  well 
denominated  by  the  names  which  he  has  given  them,  as  Misella, 
Zozima,  Properantia,  lihodoclia/ 

It  has  of  late  been  the  fashion  to  compare  the  style  of  Addison 
and  Johnson,  and  to  depreciate,  I  think  very  unjustly,  the  style  of 
Addison  as  nerveless  and  feeble,  because  it  has  not  the  strength  and 
energy  of  that  of  Johnson.  Their  prose  may  be  balanced  like  the 
poetry  of  Dryden  and  Pope.  Both  are  excellent,  though  in  different 
ways.  Addison  writes  with  the  ease  of  a  gentleman.  His  readers 
fancy  that  a  wise  and  accomplished  companion  is  talking  to  them ; 
so  that  he  insinuates  his  sentiments  and  tastes  into  their  minds  by 
an  imperceptible  influence.  Johnson  writes  like  a  teacher.  He  dic- 
tates to  his  readers  as  if  from  an  academical  chair.  They  attend 
with  awe  and  admiration;  and  his  precepts  are  impressed  upon  them 
by  his  commanding  eloquence.  Addison's  style,  like  a  light  wine, 
pleases  every  body  from  the  first.  Johnson's,  like  a  liquor  of  more 
body,  seems  too  strong  at  first,  but,  by  degrees,  is  highly  relished; 
and  such  is  the  melody  of  his  periods,  so  much  do  they  caj^tivate 
the  ear,  and  seize  upon  the  attention,  that  there  is  scarcely  any 
writer,  however  inconsiderable,  who  does  not  aim,  in  some  degree, 
at  the  same  species  of  excellence.  But  let  us  not  ungratefully 
undervalue  that  beautiful  style,  which  has  pleasingly  conveyed  to  us 
much  instruction  and  entertainment.'  Though  comparatively  weak, 
opposed  to  Johnson's  Herculean  vigour,  let  us  not  call  it  positively 
feeble.     Let  us   remember  the  character  of  his  style,  as  given  by 

'  Mr.  Burke  said  pleasantly,  that  "his  ladies  were  all  Johnsons  in  petticoats."  Mr. 
rturphy  seems  to  pass  somewhat  of  the  same  censure  on  the  letter  in  the  12th  Rambler,  from 
1  young  woman  that  wants  a  place  :  yet — such  is  the  uncertainty  of  criticism — this  is  the 
japer  quoted  by  Mr.  Chalmers,  as  an  example  of  such  ease  and  familiarity  of  style,  which 
dLudc  him  almost  doubt  whether  it  was  Johnson's.     Brit.  Ess.  vol.  xix.  p.  -!4. — Croker. 

"  "By  the  judicious  .advict  of  Mr.  Mallet,  I  was  directed  to  the  writings  of  Swift  and 
Vddison:  wit  and  simplicity  are  their  common  attributes,  but  the  style  of  Swift  is  supported 
by  manly  original  vigour  ;  that  of  Addison  is  adorned  by  the  female  graces  of  elegance  and 
cildoess." — Gibbon. 


184  ll^ifi    Oe  JOHNSON.  ^''^ 

Johnson  himself :  "  What  he  attempted,  he  performed;  he  \s  tiever 
feeble,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  be  energetic;  he  is  never  rapid,  and 
he  never  stagnates.  His  sentences  have  neither  studied  ampUtude, 
nor  affected  brevity:  his  periods,  though  not  diligently  rounded,  are 
voluble  and  easy.'  Whoever  wishes  to  attain  an  English  style, 
familiar  but  not  coarse,  and  elegant  but  not  ostentatious,  must  give 
his  days  and  nights  to  the  volumes  of  Addison.'"' 

Though  the  Rambler  was  not  concluded  till  the  year  1752,  I  shall 
under  this  year,  say  all  that  I  have  to  observ*  upon  it.  Some  of 
the  translations  of  the  raottos  by  himself,  are  admirably  done.  He 
acknowledges  to  have  received  "elegant  translations "  of  many  of 
them  from  Mr.  James  Elphinston  ;  and  some  are  very  happily  trans- 
lated by  a  Mr.  F.  Lewis,  of  whom  I  never  heard  more,  except  that 
Johnson  thus  described  him  to  Mr.  Maloue  :  "  Sir,  he  lived  in  Lon- 
don, and  hung  loose  upon  society."  The  concluding  paper  of  his 
Rambler  is  at  once  dignified  and  pathetic.  I  cannot,  however,  but 
wish,  that  he  had  not  ended  it  with  an  unnecessary  Greek  verse, 
translated  also  into  an  English  couplet.'  It  is  too  much  like  the 
conceit  of  those  dramatic  poets,  who  used  to  conclude  each  act  with 

•  When  Johnson  showed  me  a  proof  sheet  of  the  character  of  Addison,  in  which  he  so 
highly  extols  his  style,  I  could  not  help  observing,  that  it  had  not  been  his  own  model,  as  no 
two  styles  could  differ  more  from  each  other.  "  Sir,  Addison  had  his  style,  and  I  have 
mine."  When  I  ventured  to  ask  him,  whether  the  difference  did  not  consist  in  this,  that 
Addison's  style  was  full  of  idioms,  colloquial  phrases,  and  proverbs  ;  and  his  own  more 
strictly  grammatical,  and  free  from  such  phraseology  and  modes  of  speech  as  can  never  be 
literally  translated  or  understood  by  foreigners ;  he  allowed  the  discrimination  to  be  just. 
Let  any  one  who  doubts  it,  try  to  translate  one  of  Addison's  Spectators  into  Latin,  French,  or 
Italian  ;  and  though  so  easy,  familiar,  and  elegant,  to  an  Englishman,  as  to  give  the  intellect 
no  trouble  ;  yet  he  would  find  the  transfusion  into  another  language  extremely  difficult  if  not 
impossible.  But  a  Rambler,  Adventurer,  or  Idler,  of  Johnson,  would  fall  into  any  classical 
or  European  language,  as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  originally  conceived  in  it. — Bcrnev. 

His  manner  of  criticising  and  commending  Addison's  prose  was  the  same  in  conversation  as 
we  read  it  in  the  printed  strictures,  and  many  of  the  expressions  used  have  been  heard  to  fall 
from  him  on  commons  occasions.  It  was,  notwithstanding,  observable  enough  (or  I  fancied 
so),  that  he  did  never  like,  though  he  always  thought  fit  to  praise,  it;  and  his  praises  resem- 
bled those  of  a  man  who  extols  the  superior  elegance  of  high-painted  porcehiin,  while  he 
himself  always  chooses  to  eat  off  plate.  I  told  him  so  one  day,  and  he  neither  denied  it  nor 
appeared  displeased. — Piozzi. 

^  I  shall  probably,  in  another  work,  maintain  the  merit  of  Addison's  poetry,  which  hfv# 
Deen  very  unjustly  depreciated.     [Mr.  Boswell,  it  is  believed,  never  executed  this  intention.] 

*     [Avrtjv  £K  fiaKupuv  uvtu^loq  etj]  afio^fifj. 
Celestial  powers  !  that  piety  regard. 
From  you  my  labours  wait  their  last  reward,"'  • 


*'TAT.  r..  PROLOGUE    FOR   MRS.    FOSTKR  J8C 

a  rhyme  ,  and  the  expression  in  the  first  line  of  his  couplet,  "  Ce- 
Ic'tial powers"  though  proper  in  Pagan  poetry,  is  ill  suited  to  Chris 
tianity,  with  "  a  conformity  "  to  which  he  consoles  himself.  How 
iruch  better  would  it  have  been,  to  have  ended  with  the  prose  sen- 
tence, "I  shall  never  envy  the  honours  which  wit  and  learning 
obtain  in  any  other  cause,  if  I  can  be  numbered  among  the  writers 
who  have  given  ardour  to  virtue,  and  confidence  to  truth." 

His  friend,  Dr,  Birch,  being  now  engaged  in  preparing  an  edition 
of  Ralegh's  smaller  pieces.  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  the  following  letter  to 
that  gentleman  : 

Letter  19.  TO  DR.  BIRCH. 

"  GoDGH-sQUARE,  ifoy  12,  1750. 
Sir, — Knowing  that  j'ou  are  now  preparing  to  favour  tlie  public  with  a  new 
edition  of  Ralegh's  miscellaneous  pieces,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  send  you 
a  manuscript,  which  fell  by  chance  within  my  notice.  I  perceive  no  proofs  of 
forgery  in  my  examination  of  it ;  and  the  owner  tells  me,  that  as  he  has  heard, 
the  hand-writing  is  Sir  Walter's.  If  you  should  find  reason  to  conclude  it 
genuine,  it  will  be  a  kindness  to  the  owner,  a  blind  person,'  to  recommend  it 
60  'he  booksellers.     I  am.  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

His  just  abhorrence  of  Milton's  political  notions  was  ever  strong. 
But  this  did  not  prevent  his  warm  admiration  of  Milton's  great 
poetical  merit,  to  which  he  has  done  illustrious  justice,  beyond  all 
who  have  written  upon  the  subject.  And  this  year  he  not  only 
wrote  a  Prologue,  wdiich  was  spoken  by  Mr.  Garrick  before  the  acting 
of  Comus  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  for  the  benefit  of  Milton's  grand- 
daughter, but  took  a  very  zealous  interest  in  the  success  of  the 
charity.  On  the  day  preceding  the  performance,  he  publislied  the 
following  letter  in  the  "General  Advertiser,"  addressed  to  the 
printer  of  that  paper 

"  Sir, — That  a  certain  degree  of  reputation  is  acquired  merely  by  approving 
the  works  of  genius,  and  testifying  a  regard  to  the  memory  of  authours,  is  a 
truth  too  evident  to  be  denied  ;  and  therefore  to  ensure  a  participation  of  fame 
with  a  celebrated  poet,  many,  who  would,  perhaps,  have  contributed  to  starve 
bim  when  alive,  have  heaped  expensive  pageants  upon  his  grave." 

'  Mt?.  Williams  is  probably  the  person  meant. 

•  Al>' ding  probably  to  Mr.  Auditor  Benson — [who,  in  1737,  erected  a  monument  to  Miltoc 


186  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON,  "61. 

"  Tt  must,  indeed,  be  confessed,  that  this  method  of  becomii:g  known  to 
posterity  with  honour,  is  peculiar  to  the  great,  or  at  least  to  the  wealthy ;  but 
an  opportunity  now  offers  for  almost  every  individual  to  secure  the  praise  of 
paying  a  just  regard  to  the  illustrious  dead,  united  with  the  pleasure  of  doing 
good  to  the  Uving.  To  assist  industrious  indigence,  struggling  with  distress 
and  debilitated  by  age,  is  a  display  of  virtue,  and  an  acquisition  of  happiness 
and  honour. 

"  Whoever,  then,  would  be  thought  capable  of  pleasure  in  reading  the  works 
of  our  incomparable  Milton,  and  not  so  destitute  of  gratitude  as  to  refuse  to 
lay  out  a  trifle  in  rational  and  elegant  entertainment,  for  the  benefit  of  hig 
living  remains,  for  the  exercise  of  their  own  virtue,  the  increase  of  their  repu- 
tation, and  the  pleasing  consciousness  of  doing  good,  should  appear  at  Drury 
Lane  theatre  to-morrow,  April  5,  when  Coraus  will  be  performed  for  the  benefit 
of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Foster,  grand-daughter  to  the  author,  and  tho  only  surviving 
branch  of  his  family. 

''N.  B.  There  will  be  a  new  prologue  on  the  occasion,  written  by  the  au- 
thor of  Irene,  and  spoken  by  Mr.  Garrick;  and,  by  particular  desire,  there 
will  be  added  to  the  Masque  a  dramatic  satire,  called  Lethe,  ii  which  Mr.  Gar- 
rick will  perform."  * 

In  1151  we  are  to  consider  him  as  carrying  on  both  his  Dictionarj 
and  Kambler.  But  he  also  wrote  "  The  Life  of  Cheynel,"*  in  the 
miscellany  called  "  The  Student ;"  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Douglas  having 
with  uncommon  acuteness  clearly  detected  a  gross  forgery  and  impo- 
sition upon  the  public  by  William  Lauder,  a  Scotch  schoolmaster, 
who  had,  with  equal  impudence  and  ingenuity,  represented  Milton 
as  a  plagiary  from  certain  modern  Latin  poets,  Johnson,  who  had 
been  so  far  imposed  upon  as  to  furnish  a  Preface  and  Postscript  to 
his  work,  now  dictated  a  letter  for  Lauder,  addressed  to  Dr.  Doug- 
las, acknowledging  his  fraud  in  terms  of  suitable  contrition." 

in  Westminster  Abbey,  and  did  not  omit  to  inscribe  his  own  name  on  it.]  See  Dunclad,  b.  iii. 
and  iv. — Malone. 

'  For  the  honour  of  letters,  the  dignity  of  sacred  poetry,  the  spirit  of  the  English  nation, 
and  the  glory  of  human  nature,  it  is  to  be  regretted  tliatwe  do  not  find  a  more  liberal  assist- 
ance. Tonson,  the  boolcseller,  whose  family  had  been  enriched  by  the  sale  of  the  poet's 
writings,  gave  £20,  and  Bishop  Newton,  his  biographer,  brought  a  large  contribution  ;  but  all 
their  efforts,  joined  to  the  allurements  of  Johnson's  pen  and  Garrick's  performance,  procured 
only  £130. — Anderson. 

^  Lest  there  should  be  any  person,  at  any  future  period,  absurd  enough  to  suspect  that 
Johnson  was  a  partaker  in  Lauder's  fraud,  or  had  any  knowledge  of  it,  when  he  assisted  him 
with  his  masterly  pen,  it  is  proper  here  to  quote  the  words  of  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Bishop  ol 
Salisbury,  at  the  time  when  he  detected  the  imposition.  "It  is  to  be  hoped,  nay  it  i? 
expected,  that  the  elegant  and  nervous  writer,  whose  judicious  sentiments  and  inimitable 
Etyle  point  out  the  author  of  Lauder's   Preface   and  Postscript,  will  no  longer  allow  one  to 


*'»''•  •^-  PREFACE  FOR  LAUDER.  ISt 

This  extraordinary  attempt  of  Lauder  was  no  sudden  effort.  He 
had  brooded  over  it  for  many  years  :  and  to  this  hour  it  is  uncer 
tain  what  his  principal  motive  was,  unless  it  were  a  vain  notiou  ot 
his  superiority,  in  being  able,  by  whatever  means,  to  deceive  man- 
kind. To  effect  this,  he  produced  certain  passages  from  Grotius, 
Mascnius,  and  others,  which  had  a  faint  resemblance  to  some  parts 
of  the  "  Paradise  Lost."  In  these  he  interpolated  some  fragmeuts 
of  Hog's  Latin  translation  of  that  poem,  alleging  that  the  mass 
thus  fabricated  was  the  archetype  from  which  Milton  copied.  These 
fabrications  he  published  from  time  to  time  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  ;  and,  exulting  in  his  fancied  success,  he  in  1*150  ventured 
to  collect  them  into  a  pamphlet,  entitled  "An  Essay  on  Milton's  Use 
and  Lnitation  of  the  Moderns  in  his  Paradise  Lost."  To  this 
pamphlet  Johnson  wrote  a  Preface,  in  full  persuasion  of  Lauder's 
honesty,  and  a  Postscript  recommending,  in  the  most  persuasive 
terms,  a  subscription  for  the  relief  of  a  grand-daughter  of  Milton, 
of  whom  he  thus  speaks  : . 

"  It  is  yet  in  the  power  of  a  great  people  to  reward  the  poet  whose  name 
tliey  boast,  and  from  their  alliance  to  whose  genius  they  claim  some  kind  of 
superiority  to  every  other  nation  of  the  earth;  that  poet,  whose  works  may 
possibly  be  read  when  every  other  monument  of  British  greatness  shall  be 
obliterated  ;  to  reward  him,  not  with  pictures  or  with  medals,  which,  if  lie  sees, 
he  sees  with  contempt,  but  with  tokens  of  gratitude,  which  he,  perhaps,  may 
even  now  consider  as  not  unworthy  the  regard  of  an  immortal  spirit." 

Surely  this  is  inconsistent  with  "enmity  towards  Milton,"  which 
Sir  John  Hawkins  imputes  to  Johnson  upon  this  occasion,  adding, 

"I  could  all  along  observe  that  Johnson  seemed  to  approve  not  only  of  the 
design,  but  of  the  argument;   and  seemed  to  exult  in  a  persuasion,  that  th9 

plume  Mm^el/ with  his  featheri,  who  alx'P^^"''^^^  so  little  to  deserve  assistance:  an  assist- 
ance which  1  am  persuaded  would  never  have  been  communicated,  had  there  been  the  least 
suspicion  of  those  facts  which  I  have  been  the  instrument  of  conveying  to  the  world  in  these 
jhects."  Milton  no  Plagiary,  2d  edit.  p.  78.  And  his  Lordship  has  been  pleased  now  to 
Authorise  me  to  say,  in  the  strongest  manner,  that  there  is  no  ground  whatever  for  any 
infavorable  reflection  against  Dr.  Johnson,  who  expressed  the  strongest  indignation  against 
Liiuder. — Boswell. 

In  the  Gent.  Mag.  for  1754,  is  a  short  account  of  a  renewed  attack  by  Lauder  on  Milton's 
cliaracter,  in  a  pamphlet  entitled  "  The  Grand  Impostor  detected,  or  Milton  convicted  of 
forgery  against  King  Charles  I."  Mr.  Chalmers  thinks  that  this  review  was  probably  written  by 
Jibnnson  ;  but  It  is,  on  every  account,  very  unlikely.  The  article  is  trivial,  and  seelas  to  bs 
written  neither  ia  the  style  nor  sentiments  of  Johnson. — Croker, 


188  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^^^• 

-eputation  of  Milton  was  likely  to  suffer  by  this  discovery.  That  he  was  not 
privy  to  the  imposture,  I  am  well  persuaded;  that  he  wished  well  to  the  argu 
ment,  may  be  inferred  from  the  Preface,  which  indubitably  was  written  bj 
Johnson." 

Is  it  possible  for  any  man  of  clear  judgment  to  suppose  that 
Johnson,  who  so  nobly  praised  the  poetical  excellence  of  Milton  in  a 
Postscript  to  this  very  "  discovery,"  as  he  then  supposed  it,  could,  at 
the  same  time,  exult  in  a  persuasion  that  the  great  poet's  reputation 
was  likely  to  suffer  by  it  ?  This  is  an  inconsistency  of  which  John- 
son was  incapable  ;  nor  can  anything  more  be  fairly  iuferred  from 
the  Preface,  than  that  Johnson,  who  was  aUke  distinguished  for  ar- 
dent curiosity  and  love  of  truth,  was  pleased  with  an  investigation 
by  which  both  were  gratified.  That  he  was  actuated  by  these  mo- 
tives, and  certainly  by  no  "unworthy  desire  to  depreciate  our  great 
epic  poet,  is  evident  from  his  own  words  ;  for,  after  mentioning  the 
general  zeal  of  men  of  genius  and  literature,  "  to  advance  the  hon- 
our, and  distinguish  the  beauties  of  Paradise  Lost,"  he  says, 

"Among  the  inquiries  to  which  this  ardour  of  criticism  has  naturally  given 
occasion,  none  is  more  obscure  in  itself,  or  r^iore  worthy  of  rational  curiosity, 
than  a  retrospect  of  the  progress  of  this  mighty  genius  in  the  construction  of 
bia  work ;  a  view  of  the  fabric,  gradually  rising,  perhaps,  from  small  begin- 
nings, till  its  foundation  rests  in  the  centre,  and  its  turrets  sparkle  in  the  skies ; 
to  trace  back  the  structure  through  all  its  varieties  to  the  simplicity  of  its  first 
plan;  to  find  what  was  first  projected,  whence  the  scheme  was  taken,  how  it 
was  improved,  by  what  assistance  it  was  executed,  and  from  what  stores  the 
materials  were  collected ;  whether  its  founder  dug  them  from  the  quarries  of 
Nature,  or  demolished  other  buildings  to  embellish  his  own." ' 

Is  this  the  language  of  one  who  wished  to  blast  the  laurels  of 
Milton  ? ' 

[Letter  20.  TO  MR.  RICHARDSON. 

"  March  9,  1750-t. 

'  Dear  Sir, — Though  Clarissa  wants  no  help  from  external  splendour,  I  waa 
glad  to  see  her  improved  in  her  appearance,  but  more  glad  to  find  that  she 
was  now  got  above  all  fears  of  prolixity,  and  confident  enough  of  success  to  sup- 

J  "  Proposals  [written  evidently  by  Johnson]  for  printing  the  Adamus  Exul  of  Grc.tius, 
with  a  Translation  and  Notes  by  Wm.  Lauder,  A.M."— Gent.  Mag.  1747,  p.  404.— M.ilone. 

2  But  is  it  not  extraordinary  that  Johnson,  who  had  himself  meditated  a  history  of  modern 
Latin  poetry  (see  ante,  p.  78),  should  lot  have  shown  his  curiosity  and  love  (J"  truth,  by,  at 


^'^'•^2.  CLARISSA.  ISS 

ply  whatever  had  been  hitherto  suppressed.  I  never  indeed  found  a  hint  of* 
any  such  defalcation,  but  I  regretted  it ;  for  though  the  story  is  long,  every 
'ctter  is  short. 

"  I  wish  you  would  add  an  index  rcrmn,^  that  when  the  reader  recollects  any 
incident,  he  may  easily  find  it,  which  at  present  he  cannot  do,  unless  he  knows 
in  which  volume  it  is  told ;  for  Clarissa  is  not  a  performance  to  be  read  with 
eagerness,  and  laid  aside  for  ever;  but  will  be  occasionally  consulted  by  the 
busy,  the  aged,  and  the  studious;  and  therefore  I  beg  that  this  edition,  by 
which  I  suppose  posterity  is  to  abide,  may  want  nothing  that  can  facilitate 
its  use. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  yours,  &c. 

"S.  Johnson."] 

Though  Johnson's  circumstances  were  at  this  time  far  from  being 
easy,  his  humane  and  charitable  disposition  was  constantly  exerting 
itself.  Mrs.  Anna  Williams,  daughter  of  a  very  ingenious  Welsh 
physician,  and  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  talents  and  literar 
ture,  having  come  to  London  in  hopes  of  being  cured  of  a  cataract, 
in  both  her  eyes,  which  afterwards  ended  in  total  blindness,  was 
kindly  received  as  a  constant  visiter  at  his  house,  while  Mrs.  John- 
son lived  ;  and,  after  her  death,  having  come  under  his  roof  in  order 
to  have  an  operation  upon  her  eyes  performed  with  more  comfort  to 
her  than  in  lodgings,  she  had  an  apartment  from  him  during  the 
rest  of  her  life,  at  all  times  when  he  had  a  house.^ 

least,  comparing  Lauder's  quotations  with  the  original  authors  ?  It  was,  we  might  say,  his 
duty  to  have  done  so,  before  he  so  far  pronounced  his  judgment  as  to  assist  Lauder;  and  had 
he  attempted  but  to  verify  a  single  quotation,  he  must  have  immediately  discovered  the  fraud. 
— Croker. 

■  This  proposition  of  an  index  rerum  to  a  novel  will  appear  extraordinary,  but  Johnson 
at  this  time  appears  to  have  been  very  anxious  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  Richardson, 
who  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  flattery,  and  Johnson  found  it  necessary  to  fall  into  the  fashion 
of  the  society.  Mr.  Northcote  relates,  that  Johnson  introduced  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  his 
sister  to  Richardson,  but  hinted  to  them,  at  the  same  time,  that  if  they  wished  to  see  the  lat- 
ter in  good  humour,  they  must  expatiate  on  the  excellencies  of  Clarissa ;  and  Mrs.  I'iozzi 
tells  us,  that  when  talking  of  Richardson  he  once  said,  "  You  think  I  love  flattery — and  so  I 
do ;  but  a  little  too  much  always  disgusts  me  :  that  fellow,  Richardson,  on  the  contrary,  could 
not  be  contented  to  sail  quietly  down  the  stream  of  reputation  without  longing  to  taste  the 
ttoth  from  every  stroke  of  the  oar." — Croker. 

^  Before  the  calamity  of  total  deprivation  of  sight  befell  Mrs.  Williams,  she,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  her  father,  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  French  and  Italian  languages,  and  had 
made  great  improvements  in  literature,  which,  together  with  the  exercise  of  her  needle,  at 
which  she  was  very  dexterous,  as  well  after  the  loss  of  her  sight  as  before,  contributsd  to  sup- 
port her  under  her  affliction,  till  a  time  when  it  was  thought  by  her  friends,  that  relief  might 
be  obtained  from  the  hand  of  an  operating  surgeon.  At  the  requAt  of  Dr.  Johnson,  I  went 
with  her  to  a  friend  of  mine,  Mr.  Samuel  Sharp,  senior  surgeon  of  Guy's  Hospital,  who  before 


190  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  l'^*l- 

had  given  me  to  understand  that  he  would  couch  her  gratis  if  the  cataract  was  ripe ;  but  upon 
making  the  experiment  it  was  found  otherwise,  and  that  the  crystalline  humour  was  not  suf- 
ficiently inspissated  for  the  needle  to  take  effect.  She  had  been  almost  a  constant  companion 
of  Mrs.  Johnson  for  some  time  before  her  decease,  but  had  never  resided  in  the  house ;  after- 
wards, for  the  convenience  of  performing  the  intended  operation,  Johnson  took  her  home; 
and,  upon  the  failure  of  that,  kept  her  as  the  partner  of  his  dwelling  till  he  removed  into 
chambers.  Afterward,  in  1766,  upon  his  taking  a  house  in  Johnson's  Court,  in  Fleet  Streeti, 
he  invited  her  thither,  and  in  that,  and  his  last  house,  in  Bolt  Court,  she  successively  dwe'.t 
for  the  remainder  of  her  life.  The  loss  of  her  sight  made  but  a  small  abatement  of  her  cheer- 
fulness, and  was  scarce  any  interruption  of  her  studies.  With  the  assistance  of  two  female 
friends,  she  translated  from  the  French  of  Pere  La  Bletrie  "  th»  Life  of  the  Emperor  Julian," 
and,  in  1766,  she  published,  by  subscription,  a  quarto  volume  of  Miscellanies,  in  prose  and 
verse,  and  thereby  increased  her  little  fund  to  three  hundred  pounds,  which,  being  prudently 
invested,  yielded  an  income  that,  under  such  protection  as  she  experienced  from  Dr.  Johuson, 
was  sufficient  for  her  support.  She  was  a  woman  of  an  enlightened  understanding;  plain,  as 
it  is  called,  in  her  person,  and  easily  provoked  to  anger,  but  possessing,  nevertheless,  some 
excellent  moral  qualities,  among  which  no  one  was  more  conspicuous  than  her  desire  to  pro- 
mote the  welfare  and  happiness  of  others,  and  of  this  she  gave  a  signal  proof,  by  her  solici- 
tude in  favour  of  an  institution  for  the  maintenance  and  education  of  poor  deserted  females 
in  the  parish  of  St.  Sepulchre,  London,  supported  by  the  voluntary  contributions  of  ladies; 
and,  as  the  foundation-stone  of  a  fund  for  its  future  subsistence,  she  bequeathed  to  it  the 
whole  of  the  little  which  she  had  been  able  to  accumulate.  To  the  endowments  and  qualities 
here  ascribed  to  her,  may  be  added  a  larger  share  of  experimental  prudence  than  is  the  lot 
of  most  of  her  sex.  Johnson,  in  many  exigencies,  found  her  an  able  counsellor,  and  seldom 
showed  his  wisdom  more  than  when  he  hearkened  to  her  advice.  In  return,  she  received 
from  his  conversation  the  advantages  of  religious  and  moral  improvement,  which  she  culti- 
vated so,  as  in  a  great  measure  to  smooth  the  constitutional  asperity  of  her  temper.  When 
these  particulars  are  known,  this  intimacy,  which  began  with  compassion,  and  terminated  in  a 
friendship  that  subsisted  till  death  dissolved  it,  will  be  easily  accounted  for. — Hawkins,  p.  822. 
Mrs.  AVilliams  was  a  person  extremely  interesting.  She  had  uncommon  firmness  of  mind, 
a  boundless  curiosity,  retentive  memory,  and  strong  judgment.  She  had  various  powers  of 
pleasing.  Her  personal  afflictions  and  slender  fortune  she  seemed  to  forget,  when  she  had 
the  power  of  doing  an  act  of  kindness  :  she  was  social,  cheerful,  and  active,  in  a  state  of  body 
that  was  truly  deplorable.  Her  regard  to  Dr.  Johnson  was  formed  with  such  strength  of  judg- 
ment and  firm  esteem,  that  her  voice  never  hesitated  when  she  repeated  his  maxims,  or  re- 
cited his  good  deeds ;  though  upon  many  other  occasions  her  want  of  sight  led  her  to  make 
so  much  use  of  her  ear,  as  to  affect  her  speech.  Mrs.  Williams  was  blind  before  she  was  ac- 
quainted with  Dr.  Johnson.  She  had  many  resources,  though  none  very  great.  With  tha 
Miss  Wilkinsons  she  generally  passed  a  part  of  the  year,  and  received  from  them  presents, 
and  from  the  first  who  died,  a  legacy  of  clothes  and  money.  The  last  of  them,  Mrs.  Jane, 
•eft  her  an  annual  rent ;  but  fi'om  the  blundering  manner  of  the  will,  I  fear  she  never  reaped 
the  benefit  of  it.  The  lady  left  money  to  erect  a  hospital  for  ancient  maids ;  but  the  number 
she  had  allotted  being  too  great  for  the  donation,  the  Doctor  (Johnson)  said,  it  would  be  bet- 
ter to  expunge  the  word  maintain,  and  put  in  to  starve  such  a  number  of  old  maids.  They 
asked  him  what  name  should  be  given  it:  he  replied,  "Let  it  be  called  Jenny's  Whim."  [The 
name  of  a  well-known  tavern  near  Chelsea  in  former  days.]  "  Lady  Philips  made  her  a 
small  annual  allowance,  and  some  other  Welsh  ladies,  to  all  of  whom  she  was  related.  Mrs. 
Montague,  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Montague,  settled  upon  her  (by  deed)  ten  pounds  per  annum. 
As  near  as  I  can  calculate,  Mrs.  Williams  had  about  thirty-five  or  forty  pounds  a  year.  The 
furniture  she  used  [in  her  apartment  in  Dr.  Johnson's  house]  was  her  own  ;  her  expenses 
were  small,  tea  and  bread  and  butter  being  at  least  half  of  her  nourishment.  Sometimes 
she  had  a  servant  or  charwoman  to  do  the  ruder  offices  of  the  house ;  but  she  was  herself 
active  and  industrious.    I  have  frequently  seen  her  at  work.    Upon  remarking  one  day  hv 


'^'AT.  4i  jfj^g     -wiLUAMg  191 

facility  in  moving  about  the  iiouse,  searching  into  drawers,  and  finding  books,  without  tha 
help  of  sight,  '  Believe  me  (said  she),  persons  who  cannot  do  these  common  offices  without 
sight,  did  but  little  while  they  enjoj-ed  that  blessing.'    Scanty  circumstances,  bad  health,  an 
blindness,  are  surely  a  sufficient  apology  for  her  being  sometimes  impatient:    htr  natural 
disposition  was  good,  friendly,  and  humane." — Lady  Knight. 

I  see  her  now— a  jalf,  shrunken  old  lady,  dressed  in  scarlet,  made  in  the  handsome 
French  fashion  of  the  time  (1775),  with  a  lace  cap,  with  two  stiffened  projecting  wings  on  the 
teuiple.f,  und  a  black  lace  hood  over  it.  Her  temper  has  been  recorded  as  mai-ked  with 
AVulsh  lire,  and  this  might  be  excited  by  some  of  the  meaner  ijmiates  of  tlie  uiipcr  floors  [of 
Di-.  Jolin.'<on's  house] :  but  lier  gentle  kindness  to  me  I  never  shall  foi-get,  or  think  consistent 
wiOi  a  had  feniiier.  I  know  nobody  fioni  whose  discourse  there  was  a  better  chance  of  deriv- 
ing' hig-Ii  iilcas;  vi  moral  rectitude.— Miss  Hawkins,  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  152. 


CHAPTER    X. 
1752—1753. 

Progress  of  the  Dictionary — Conclusion  of  the  Rambler — Death  of  Mrs.  Johnson — Prayet  o^ 
that  Occasion — Inscription — Epitaph — Francis  Barber — Robert  Levett — Sir  Joshua  Reynold! 
— Bernal  Layton— Topham  Beauclerk — Johnson  assists  Hawkeaworth  on  "  The  Adven- 
turer." 

In  1152  Johnson  was  almost  entirely  occupied  with  his  Dictionary 
The  last  paper  of  his  Rambler  was  published  March  14,  this  yearj 
after  which  there  was  a  cessation  for  some  time  of  any  exertion  of 
his  talents  as  an  essayist.  But,  in  the  same  year,  Dr.  Hawkesworth, 
who  was  his  warm  admirer,  and  a  studious  imitator  of  his  style,  and 
then  lived  in  great  intimacy  with  him,  began  a  periodical  paper, 
entitled,  "  The  Adventurer,"  in  connection  with  other  gentlemen,' 
one  of  whom  was  Johnson's  much-loved  friend,  Dr.  Bathnrst;  and, 
without  doubt,  they  received  many  valuable  hints  from  his  conver- 
sation, most  of  his  friends  having  been  so  assisted  in  the  course  of 
their  works. 

That  there  should  be  a  suspension  of  his  literary  labours  during  a 
part  of  the  year  1752,  will  not  seem  strange,  when  it  is  considered 
that  soon  after  closing  his  Rambler,  he  suffered  a  loss  which,  there 
can -be  no  doubt,  affected  him  with  the  deepest  distress.  For  on 
the  Itth  of  March,  0.  S.,  his  wife  died.  Why  Sir  John  Hawkins 
should  unwarrantably  take  upon  him  even  to  suppose  that  Johnson's 
fondness  for  her  was  dissemlkd   (meaning  simulated   or  assumed') 

•  The  curiosity  of  the  reader  as  to  the  several  writers  of  the  Adventurer  is,  to  a  small  de- 
gree, gratified  by  the  last  paper,  which  assigns  to  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  such  as  have  the  signa- 
ture Z,  and  leaves  to  Dr.  Hawkesworth  himself  the  praise  of  such  as  are  without  any.  To 
ths  information  there  given,  I  add,  that  the  papers  marked  A,  which  are  said  to  have  come 
from  a  source  that  soon  failed,  were  supplied  by  Dr.  Bathurst,  an  original  associate  in  the 
work,  and  those  distinguished  by  the  letter  T  (ih^.  first  of  which  is  dated  8d  March,  n53\  by 
Johnson,  who  received  two  guineas  for  every  number  that  he  wrote  ;  a  rate  of  payment  which 
he  had  before  adjusted  in  his  stipulation  for  the  Rambler,  and  was  probably  the  measure  of 
reward  to  his  fellow-labourers. — Hawkins. 
192 


^T-^T.  43.  DEATH    OF   MRS.    JOHNSOJ?.  193 

and  to  assert,  that  if  it  was  not  the  case,  "  it  was  a  lesson  he  had 
learned  by  rote,"  I  cannot  conceive;  unless  it  proceeded  from  a  want 
of  similar  feelings  in  his  own  breast.  To  argue  from  her  being 
much  older  than  Johnson,  or  any  other  circumstances,  that  he  could 
not  really  love  her,  is  absurd ;  for  love  is  not  a  subject  of  reasoning, 
but  of  feeling,  and  therefore  there  are  no  common  principles  upon 
which  one  can  persuade  another  concerning  it.  Every  man  feels  for 
himself,  and  knows  how  he  is  affected  by  particular  qualities  in  the 
person  he  admires,  the  impressions  of  which  are  too  minute  and 
delicate  to  be  substantiated  in  language. 

Tlie  following  very  solemn  and  affecting  prayer  was  found  after 
Dr.  Johnson's  decease,  by  his  servant,  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  who  de- 
livered it  to  my  worthy  friend,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  Vicar  of 
Islington,  who,  at  my  earnest  request,  has  obligingly  favoured  me 
with  a  copy  of  it,  which  he  and  I  compared  with  the  original.  I 
present  it  to  the  world  as  an  undoubted  proof  of  a  circumstance 
in  the  character  of  my  illustrious  friend,  which,  though  some,  whose 
jiard  minds  I  never  shall  envy,  may  attack  as  superstitious,  will,  I 
am  sure,  endear  him  more  to  numbers  of  good  men.  I  have  an 
additional,  and  that  a  personal  motive  for  presenting  it,  because  it 
sanctioLs  what  I  myself  have  always  maintained  and  am  fond  to 
indulge. 

"  April  26,  1752,  being  after  12  at  Night  tt  the  26th. 
*'  0  Lord!  Governor  of  heaven  and  earth,  in  whose  hands  are  embodied  and 
aeparted  spirits,  if  thou  hast  ordained  the  souls  of  the  dead  to  minister  to  the 
living,  and  appointed  my  departed  wife  to  have  care  of  me,  grant  that  T  maj 
enjoy  the  good  effects  of  her  attention  and  ministration,  whether  exercised  by 
appearance,  impulses,  dreams,  or  in  any  other  manner  agreeable  to  *^^hy 
government.  Forgive  my  presumption,  enlighten  my  ignorance,  and  howevor 
meaner  agents  are  employed,  grant  me  the  blessed  influences  of  thy  holy  Spirit, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Atnen." 

What  actually  followed  upon  this  most  interesting  piece  of  de- 
TDtion  by  Johnson,  we  are  not  informed;  but  I,  whom  it  has  pleased 
God  to  afflict  in  a  similar  manner  to  that  which  occasioned  it,  have 
certain  experience  of  benignant  communication  by  dreams.' 

*    Mr.  Boswell's  wife  died  in  June,  1790  ;  his  Life  of  Johnson  was  first  published  In  Apifl, 
1791. 

VOL.    I.  9 


1&4  LIFE    OF   JOHKSOif.  '^^ 

That  his  love  for  his  wife  was  of  the  most  ardent  kind,  aud,  during 
the  long  period  of  fifty  years,  was  unimpaired  by  the  lapse  of  time, 
is  evident  from  various  passages  in  the  series  of  his  Prayers  and 
Meditations,^  published  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  as  well  as 
from  other  memorials,  two  of  which  I  select,  as  strongly  marking 
the  tenderness  and  sensibility  of  his  mind. 

"  March  28,  1753.  I  kept  this  day  as  the  anniversary  of  my  Tetty's  death, 
with  prayers  and  tears  in  the  morning.  In  the  evening  I  prayed  for  her  con 
ditionally,  if  it  were  lawful." 

"  April  23,  1763.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  do  not  too  much  ind]ilge  the 
vain  longings  of  affection  ;  but  I  hope  they  intenerate  my  heart,  jnd  that 
when  I  die  like  my  Tetty,  this  affection  will  be  acknowledged  in  a  happy  inter 
view,  and  that  in  the  mean  time  I  am  incited  by  it  to  piety.  I  will,  however, 
not  deviate  too  much  from  common  and  received  methods  of  devotion."  ' 

Her   wedding-ring,  when   she   became  his  wife,  was,  after   her 

'  The  originals  of  this  publication  are  now  deposited  in  Pembroke  College.  It  is  to  bo 
observed,  that  they  consist  of  a  few  little  memorandum  books,  and  a  great  number  of  sepa- 
rate scraps  of  paper,  and  bear  no  marks  of  having  been  arranged  or  intended  for  publication 
by  Dr.  Johnson.  Each  prayer  is  on  a  separate  piece  of  paper,  generally  a  sheet  [but  some- 
times a  fragment)  of  note  paper.  The  memoranda  and  observations  are  generally  in  little 
books  of  a  few  leaves  sewed  together.  This  subject  will  be  referred  to  hereafter;  but  it  is 
even  now  important  that  the  reader  should  recollect  that  Mr.  Strahan's  publication  was  not 
prepared  by  Dr.  Johnson  himself,  but  formed  by  the  reverend  gentleman  out  of  the  loose 
materials  above  mentioned. —  Croker. 

*  Miss  Seward,  with  equal  truth  and  taste,  thus  expresses  herself  concerning  these  and 
similar  passages  :  "  Those  pharisaic  meditations,  with  their  popish  prayers  for  old  Tetty's 
soul ;  their  contrite  parade  about  lying  in  bed  of  a  morning ;  drinking  creamed  tea  on  a  fast 
day ;  snoring  at  sermons  ;  and  having  omitted  to  ponder  well  Bel  and  the  Dragon,  and  Tobit 
and  his  Dog."  And  in  another  letter  she  does  not  scruple  to  say,  that  Mr.  Boswell  confessed 
to  her  his  idea  that  Johnson  was  "  a  Roman  Catholic  in  his  heart."  Miss  Seward's  ciedit  is  by 
this  time  so  low,  that  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe  how  improbable  it  is  that  Mr.  Boswell 
could  have  made  any  such  confession.  Dr.  Johnson  thought  charitably  of  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics, and  defended  their  religion  from  the  coarse  language  of  our  political  tests,  which  call  it 
Impious  and  idolatrous  {post,  Oct.  26,  1709) ;  but  he  strenuously  disclaimed  all  participation 
in  the  doctrines  of  that  church  (see^o.s^.  May  3,  1713  ;  April  5,  1776  ;  Oct.  10,  1779  ;  June  8, 
1784).  Mrs.  Piozzi  says,  "  Though  beloved  by  all  his  Roman  Catholic  acquaintances,  yet  was 
Mr.  Johnson  a  most  unshaken  Churoh-of-England  man  ;  and  I  think,  or  at  least  I  once  did 
think,  that  a  letter  written  by  him  to  Mr.  Barnard,  the  king's  librarian,  when  hs  was  in  Italy 
collecting  books,  contained  some  very  particular  advice  to  his  friend  tc  be  on  his  guard 
against  the  seductions  of  the  Church  of  Rome."  And  finally — which  may  perhaps  be  thought 
more  likely  to  express  his  real  sentiments  than  even  a  more  formal  assertion — when  it  was 
proposed  (see  post,  April  30,  1778),  that  monuments  of  eminent  men  should  in  future  be 
erected  in  St.  Paul's,  and  when  some  one  in  conversation  suggested  to  begin  with  Pope, 
Johnson  observed,  "  Why,  sir,  as  Pope  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  I  would  not  have  his  t9  bt 
first." — Obokbb 


•^TAT.  48,  DEATH    OF    MRS.    JOHNSON.  195 

death,  preserved  by  bim,  as  long  as  he  lived,  with  an  afifectionate 
care,  in  a  little  round  wooden  box,  in  the  inside  of  which  he  pasted 
a  dip  of  paper,  thus  inscribed  by  him  in  fair  characters,  as  follows : 

"  Eheu ! 

"  Eliz.  Johnson, 

"Nupta  Jul.  9°  1736, 

"  Mortua,  eheu ! 
"Mart,  no  1752."* 

Afttr  his  death,  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  his  faithful  servant,  and 
residuary  legatee,  offered  this  memorial  of  tenderness  to  Mrs.  Lucy 
Porter  Mrs.  Johnson's  daughter ;  but  she  having  declined '  to 
accept  of  it,  he  had  it  enamelled  as  a  mourning  ring  for  his  old 
master,  and  presented  it  to  his  wife,  Mrs  Barber,  who  now  has  it. 

The  state  of  mind  in  which  a  man  must  be  upon  the  death  of  a 
woman  whom  he  sincerely  loves,  had  been  in  his  contemplation 
many  pars  before.  In  his  Irene,  we  find  the  following  fervent  and 
tender  ipeech  of  Demetrius,  iiddressed  to  his  Aspasia  : 

"  From  those  bright  regions  of  eternal  day, 

Where  now  thou  shin'st  amongst  thy  fellow  saints, 

Array'd  in  purer  light,  look  down  on  me ! 

In  pleasing  visions  and  assuasive  dreams, 

0 !  sooth  my  soul,  and  teach  me  how  to  lose  thee." 

I  hfve,  indeed,  been  told  by  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who,  before  her 
marriai-e,  lived  for  some  time  with  Mrs.  Johnson  at  Hampstead, 
that  sie  indulged  herself  in  country  air  and  nice  living,  at  an 
unsuitible  expense,  while  her  husband  was  drudging  in  the  smoke 
of  Loidon,  and  that  she  by  no  means  treated  him  with  that  com- 
placeicy  which  is  the  most  engaging  quality  in  a  wife.'     But  all 

'  It  d'Cs  seem  as  if  Dr  Johnson  had  been  a  little  ashamed  of  the  disproportion  between  hb 
age  anc  that  of  his  wife,  for  neither  in  this  inscription  nor  that  over  her  grave,  written  thirty 
J  >ars  liter,  does  he  mention  her  age,  which  was  at  her  death  sixty-three. — Croker. 

2  Offended  perhaps,  and  not  unreasonably,  that  she  was  not  mentioned  in  Johnson's  will.— 
Cbokej. 

'  I  isked  him,  if  he  ever  disputed  with  his  wife  (I  had  heard  that  he  loved  her  passion- 
ately) ''  Perpetually,"  said  he  :  "  my  wife  had  a  particular  reverence  for  cleanliness,  and 
desird  the  praise  of  neatness  in  her  dress  and  furniture,  as  many  ladies  do,  till  they  become 
(roubeeome  to  their  best  friends,  slaves  to  their  own  besoms,  and  only  sigli  for  the  hour  o 


196  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

this  IS  perfectly  compatible  with  his  fondness  for  her,  especiiilly 
when  it  is  remembered  that  he  had  a  high  opinion  of  her  under- 
standing, and  that  the  impressions  which  her  beauty,  reai  or 
imaginary,  had  originally  made  upon  his  fancy,  being  continued  by 
habit,  had  not  been  effaced,  though  she  herself  was  doubtless  much 
altered  for  the  worse.'  The  dreadful  shock  of  separation  took 
place  in  the  night ;  and  he  immediately  despatched  a  letter  to  his 
friend,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Taylor,  which,  as  Taylor  told  me.  eipressed 
grief  in  the  strongest  manner  he  had  ever  read  ;  so  that  it  s  much 
to  be  regretted  it  has  not  been  preserved."  The  letter  wasbrought 
to  Dr.  Taylor,  at  his  house  in  the  Cloisters,  Westminster,  about 
three  in  the  morning  ;  and  as  it  signified  an  earnest  desise  to  see 
him,  he  got  up,  and  went  to  Johnson  as  soon  as  he  was  dr^sed,  and 
found  him  in  tears  and  in  extreme  agitation.  After  beia^  a  little 
while  together,  Johnson  requested  him  to  join  with  him  h  prayer. 
He  then  prayed  extempore,  as  did  Dr.  Taylor  ;  and  thus  by  means 
of  that  piety  which  was  ever  his  primary  object,  his  trouiiled  mind 
was,  in  some  degree,  soothed  and  composed. 
The  next  day  he  wrote  as  follows  :  I 

Letter  21.  TO  THE  REV.  DR.  TAYLOR. 

"  Marh  18, 1752. 
"  Dear  Sir, — Let  me  have  your  company  and   instruction,     lo  not  live 
away  from  me.     My  distress  is  great. 

sweeping  their  husbands  out  of  the  house  as  dirt  and  useless  lumber  :  a  clean  fltor  is  so  com- 
fortable, she  would  say  sometimes,  by  way  of  twitting ;  till  at  last  I  told  her,  tlat  I  thouglit 
we  had  talk  enough  about  the  floor,  we  would  now  have  a  touch  at  the  ceiling."  On  another 
occasion  I  have  heard  him  blame  her  for  a  fault  many  people  have,  of  setting  tie  miseries  of 
their  neighbours  half  unintentionally,  half  wantonly,  before  their  eyes,  showing  fiera  the  bad 
side  of  their  profession,  situation,  &c.  He  said,  "She  would  lament  the  de^ndence  of 
pupilage  to  a  young  heir,  &c.  and  once  told  a  waterman  who  rowed  her  along  tfe  Thames  in 
a  wherry,  that  he  was  no  happier  than  a  galley-slave,  one  being  chained  to  the  off  by  autho- 
rity, the  other  by  want.  I  had,  however  (said  he,  laughing),  the  wit  to  get  her  ilaughter  on 
my  side  always  before  we  began  the  dispute."  She  read  comedy  better  than  aay  body  he 
ever  heard  (he  said)  ;  in  tragedy  she  mouthed  too  much. — Piozzi. 

'  Garrick  told  Mr.  Thrale,  however,  that  she  was  a  little  painted  puppet,  of  lo  value  at 
all,  and  quite  disguised  with  affectation,  full  of  odd  airs  of  rural  elegance  ;  and  himade  out 
some  comical  scenes,  by  mimicking  her  in  a  dialogue  he  pretended  to  have  overhiftrd.  Mr. 
Johnson  has  told  me  that  ner  hair  was  eminently  beautiful,  quite  blonde  like  that  (f  a  baby  ; 
but  that  she  fretted  about  the  colour,  and  was  always  desirous  to  dye  it  black,  whicti  he  very 
iudiciously  hindered  her  from  doing.  The  picture  I  found  of  her  at  Lichfield  was  very  pretty, 
and  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter,  said  it  was  like.  The  intelligence  I  gained  of  her  from 
eld  Levett,  was  only  perpetatal  illness  and  perpetual  opivm. — Piozzi. 

»  Id  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  February,  1794,  p.  100,  was  printed  a  letter  pEtending 


*TAT.  43.  DEATH    OF    MRS.    JORXSOX.  1 9t 

"  Pray  desire  Mrs.  Taylor  to  inform  me  what  mourning  I  should  buy  for  hit 
mother  and  Miss  Porter,  and  bring  a  note  in  writing  with  you. 

"  Remember  me  in  your  prayers,  for  vain  is  the  help  of  man.  I  am, 
dear  Sir,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson.'' 

That  his  sufferings  upon  the  death  of  his  wife  were  severe,  beyond 
what  are  commonly  endured,  I  have  no  doubt,  from  the  information 
of  many  who  were  then  about  him,  to  none  of  whom  I  give  more 
credit  than  to  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  his  faithful  negro  servant,'  who 
came  into  his  family  about  a  fortnight  after  the  dismal  event. 
These  sufferings  were  aggravated  by  the  melancholy  inherent  in  his 
constitution  ;  and  although  he  probably  was  not  oftener  in  the 
wrong  than  she  was,  in  the  little  disagreements  which  sometimes 
troubled  his  married  state,  during  which,  he  owned  to  me,  that  the 
gloomy  irritability  of  his  existence  was  more  painful  to  him  than 
ever,  he  might  very  naturally,  after  her  death,  be  tenderly  disposed 
to  charge  himself  with  slight  omissions  and  offences,  the  sense  of 
which  would  give  him  much  uneasiness."  Accordingly  we  find, 
about  a  year  after  her  decease,  that  he  thus  addressed  the  Supreme 
Being  : — "  0  Lord,  who  givest  the  grace  of  repentance,  and  hearest 
the  prayers  of  the  penitent,  grant  that  by  true  contrition  I  may 
obtain  forgiveness  of  all   the   sins   committed,   and   of  all  duties 


to  be  that  written  by  Johnson  on  the  death  of  his  wife :  but  it  is  merely  a  transcript  of  the 
41st  number  of  "  The  Idler,"  on  the  death  of  a  friend.  A  fictitious  date,  March  17,  1741,  0  S., 
was  added,  to  give  a  colour  to  this  deception. — Malone. 

'  Francis  Barber  was  born  in  Jamaica,  and  was  brought  to  England  in  1750  by  Colonel 
Bathurst,  father  of  Johnson's  very  intimate  friend  Dr.  Bathurst.  Re  was  sent,  for  some  time, 
to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Jackson's  school,  at  Barton,  in  Yorkshire.  The  colonel  by  his  will  left 
him  his  freedom,  and  Dr.  Bathurst  was  willing  that  he  should  enter  into  Johnson's  service,  in 
which  he  continued  from  1752  till  Johnson's  death,  with  the  exception  of  two  intervals  ;  In 
one  of  which,  upon  some  difference  with  his  master,  he  went  and  served  an  apothecary  in 
Cheapside,  but  still  visited  Dr.  Johnson  occasionally ;  in  another,  he  took  a  fancy  to  go  to  sea. 
Part  of  the  time,  indeed,  he  was,  by  the  kindness  of  his  master,  at  a  school  in  Northampton- 
shire, that  he  might  have  the  advantage  of  some  learning.  So  early  and  so  lasting  a  connec- 
tion was  there  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  this  humble  friend. — Boswell. 

The  uses  for  which  Francis  was  intended  to  serve  Johnson  were  not  very  apparent, 
for  Diogenes  himself  never  wanted  a  servant  less  than  he  seemed  to  do.  The  great  bushy  wig 
which,  throughout  his  life,  he  affected  to  wear,  by  that  closeness  of  texture  which  it  had  con- 
tracted and  been  suffered  to  retain,  was  ever  nearly  as  impenetrable  by  a  comb  as  a  quickset 
hedge ;  and  little  of  the  dust  that  had  once  settled  on  his  outer  garments  was  ever  known  tc 
have  been  disturbed  by  the  brush. — Hawkins. 

»  See  his  beautiful  and  affecting  Rambler,  No.  54.— Malonk. 


198  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "™- 

neglected,  in  my  union  with  the  wife  whom  thou  hast  taken  from 
me  ;  for  the  neglect  of  joint  devotion,  patient  exhortation,  and  mild 
instruction."     [Pr,  aLd  Med.  p.  19.]     The  kindness  of  his   heart, 
notwithstanding  the  impetuosity  of  his  temper,  is  well  known  to  his 
friends  ;  and  1  cannot  trace  the  smallest  foundation  of  the  following 
dark  and   uncharitable    assertion    by  Sir  John   Hawkins  : — "  The 
apparition  of  his  departed  wife  was  altogether  of  the  terrific  kind, 
and  hardly  afforded  him  a  hope  that  she  was  in  a  state  of  happi 
ness."     That  he,  in  conformity  with  the  opinion  of  many  of  the  most 
able,  learned,  and  pious  Christians  in  all  ages,  supposed  that  there 
was  a  middle   state  after  death,  previous  to   the  time  at  which 
departed  souls  are  finally  received  to  eternal  felicity,  appears,  I 
think,  unquestionable  from  his  devotions: — "And,  0  Lord,  so  far 
as  it  may  be  lawful  in  me,  I  commend  to  thy  fatherly  goodness  iht 
smd  of  my  departed  wife;  beseeching  thee  to  grant  her  whatever  is 
best  in  her  present  state,  and  finally  to  receive  her  to  eternal  happiness.^'  * 
[Pr.  and  Med.  p.  20.]     But  this  state  has  not  been  looked  upon 
with  horror,  but  only  as  less  gracious. 

He  deposited  the  remains  of  Mrs.  Johnson  in  the  church  of 
Bromley  in  Kent,'  to  which  he  was  probably  led  by  the  residence 
qf  his  friend  Hawkesworth  at  that  place.  The  funeral  sermon  which 
he  composed  for  her,  which  was  never  preached,  but,  having  been 
given  to  Dr.  Taylor,  has  been  published  since  his  death,  is  a  per- 
formance of  uncommon  excellence,  and  full  of  rational  and  pious 
comfort  to  such  as  are  depressed  by  that  severe  affliction  which 
Johnson  felt  when  he  wrote  it.     When  it  is  considered  that  it  was 

'-  It  does  not  appear  that  Johnson  was  fully  persuaded  that  there  was  a  middle  state:  hii 
prayers  being  only  conditional,  i.  e.  if  such  a  state  existed. —Ma lone. 

2  A  few  months  before  his  death,  Johnson  honoured  her  memory  by  the  following  epitaph, 

irhich  was  inscribed  on  her  tombstone,  in  the  church  of  Bromley  : — 

Hie  conduntur  reliquiae 

ELIZABETHS 

Antiqua  Jarvisiorura  gente, 

Peatlingse,  apud  Leicestrienses,  ortse  ; 

Formosse,  cultae,  ingeniosje,  piae ; 
Uxoris,  primis  nuptiis,  Henkici  Porter. 

Secundis,  Samuelis  Johnson  ; 

Qui  multum  amatam,  diuque  defletam 

Hoc  lapide  contexit. 

Obiit  Londini,  Mense  Mart. 

AD.  MDCCLII. 


Sif^t-^  ROBERT   LEVETT.  199 

written  in  such  an  agitation  of  mind,  and  in  the  short  interval  be- 
tween her  death  and  burial,  it  cannot  be  read  without  wonder. 

From  Mr.  Francis  Barber  I  have  had  the  following  authentic  and 
artless  account  of  the  situation  in  which  he  found  him  recently  after 
his  wife's  death  : — "  He  was  in  great  affliction.  Mrs.  Williams  was 
then  living  in  his  house,  which  was  in  Gough  Square.  He  was  busy 
with  the  Dictionary.  Mr.  Shiels,  and  some  others  of  the  gentlemen 
who  had  formerly  written  for  him,  used  to  come  about  him.  He 
had  then  little  for  himself,  but  frequently  sent  money  to  Mr.  Shiels 
when  in  distress.  The  friends  who  visited  him  at  that  time  were 
chiefly  Dr.  Bathurst,*  and  Mr.  Diamond,  an  apothecary  in  Cork 
Street  Burlington-gardens,  with  whom  he  and  Mrs.  Williams  gene- 
rally dined  every  Sunday.  There  was  a  talk  of  his  going  to  Iceland 
with  him,  which  would  probably  have  happened,  had  he  lived. 
There  were  also  Mr.  Cave,  Dr.  Hawkesworth,  Mr.  Eyland,  merchant 
on  Tower-hill,  Mrs.  Masters,  the  poetess,  who  lived  with  Mr.  Cave, 
Mrs.  Carter,  and  sometimes  Mrs.  Macaulay  ;  also,  Mrs.  Gardiner, 
wife  of  a  tallow-chandler  on  Snow-hill,  not  in  the  learned  way,  but  a 
worthy  good  woman  ;  Mr.  (now  Sir  Joshua)  Reynolds ;  Mr.  Miller, 
Mr.  Dodsley,  Mr.  Bouquet,  Mr.  Payne,  of  Paternoster-row,  book- 
sellers ;  Mr.  Strahan,  the  printer  ;  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  Lord  South- 
well, Mr.  Garrick." 

Many  are,  no  doubt,  omitted  in  this  catalogue  of  his  friends,  and 
in  particular,  his  humble  friend  Mr.  Robert  Levett,  an  obscure 
practiser  in  physic  amongst  the  lower  people,  his  fees  being  some- 
times very  small  sums,  sometimes  whatever  provisions  his  patients 
could  afford  him;  but  of  such  extensive  practice  in  that  way,  that 
Mrs.  Williams  has  told  me,  his  walk  was  from  Houndsditch  to 
Marybone.     It  appears,  from  Johnson's  diary,  that  their  acquaint 

'  Mr.  Bathurst,  though  a  phj'sician  of  no  inconsiderable  merit,  had  not  the  good  fortune  to 
get  much  practice  in  London.  He  was,  therefore,  willing  to  accept  of  employment  abroad, 
and,  to  the  regret  of  all  who  knew  him,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  destructive  climate,  in  the  expe- 
dition against  the  Havannah.  Mr.  Langton  recollects  the  following  passage  in  a  letter  from 
Dr.  Johnson  to  Mr.  Beauclerk  : — The  Havannah  is  taken  ;  a  conquest  too  dearly  obtained ; 
Vr,  Bathurst  died  before  it ;  '  Vix  PHamwi  tanti  totaque  Troja  fiiit.'' " — Boswell. 

Dr.  Johnson  told  Mrs.  Piozzi  that  he  loved  "Dear,  dear  Bathurst  better  than  he  ever  loved 
any  human  creature ;"  and  it  was  on  him  tha'.  he  bestowed  the  singular  eulogy  of  being  a 
good  hater.  "  Dear  Bathurst,"  said  he,  "  waj  a  man  to  my  very  heart's  content ;  he  hated  a 
fool,  and  he  hated  a  rogue,  and  he  hated  a  Whig  :  he  was  a  very  good  hater  /" — Crokbb. 


200  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  17M 

ance  commenced  about  the  year  1146  ;  and  such  was  Johnson's 
predilection  for  him,  and  fanciful  estimation  of  his  moderate  abili- 
ties,  that  I  have  heard  him  say  he  should  not  be  satisfied,  though 
attended  by  all  the  College  of  Physicians,  unless  he  had  Mr.  Levett 
with  him.  Ever  since  I  was  acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson,  and 
many  years  before,  as  I  have  been  assured  by  those  who  knew  him 
earlier,  Mr.  Levett  had  an  apartment  in  his  house,  or  his  chambers, 
and  waited  upon  him  every  morning,  through  the  whole  course  of 
his  late  and  tedious  breakfast.  He  was  of  a  strange  grotesque 
appearance,  stiff  and  formal  in  his  manner,  and  seldom  said  a  word 
while  any  company  was  present.' 

The  circle  of  his  friends,  indeed,  at  this  time  was  extensive  and 
various,  far  beyond  what  has  been  generally  imagined."  To  trace 
his  acquaintance  with  each  particular  person,  if  it  could  be  done, 
would  be  a  task,  of  which  the  labour  would  not  be  repaid  by  the 
advantage.  But  exceptions  are  to  be  made  ;  one  of  which  must  be 
a  friend  so  eminent  as  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  was  truly  his  dulce 
decus,  and  with  whom  he  maintained  an  uninterrupted  intimacy  to 
the  last  hour  of  his  life.  When  Johnson  lived  in  Castle  Street, 
Cavendish  Square,  he  used  frequently  to  visit  two  ladies  who  lived 
opposite  to  him.  Miss  Cotterells,  daughters  of  Admiral  Cotterell. 
Reynolds  used  also  to  visit  there,  and  thus  they  met.'  Mr.  Reynolds, 

•  Robert  Levett,  though  an  Englishman  by  birth,  became  early  in  life  a  waiter  at  a  coffee- 
house in  Paris  ;  where  the  surgeons  who  frequented  it,  finding  him  of  an  inquisitive  turn,  and 
attentive  to  their  conversation,  made  a  purse  for  him,  and  gave  him  some  instructions  in 
their  art.  They  afterwards  furnished  him  with  the  means  of  other  knowledge,  by  procuring 
him  free  admission  to  such  lectures  in  pharmacy  and  anatomy  as  were  read  by  the  ablest 
professors  of  that  period.  Where  the  middle  part  of  his  life  was  spent  is  uncei'tain  He 
resided  above  twenty  years  under  Johnson's  hospitable  roof,  who  never  wished  him  to  be 
regarded  as  an  inferior,  or  treated  him  like  a  dependent. — Steevens. 

2  Mr.  Murphy,  who  is,  as  to  this  period,  better  authority  than  Mr.  Boswell,  says,  "  It  was 
late  in  life  before  he  had  the  habit  of  mixing,  otherwise  than  occasionally,  with  polite  com- 
pany ;"  and  Dr.  Harwood  has  favoured  me  with  the  following  memorandum,  in  Johnson's 
writing,  made  about  this  time,  of  certain  visits  which  he  was  to  make  (perhaps  on  his  return 
from  Oxford  in  1754) ;  and  which,  as  it  contains  the  names  of  some  of  the  highest  and  lowest 
of  his  acquaintances,  is  probably  a  list  of  nearly  all  his  friends  : — "  Visits  to  Brodie,  Fowke, 
Taylor,  Elphinston,  Osborn,  Garden[er],  Richardson,  Strahan,  Millar,  Tonson,  Dodsley,  Rey« 
nolds,  Lennox,  Gully,  Hawkesworth,  Gardiner,  Drew,  Lawrence,  Garrick,  Robinson,  sen., 
Boyle,  Wilson,  Henry,  Tyers,  Hawkins,  Ryland,  Payne,  Newberry,  Bathurst,  Grainger,  Baker, 
Weston,  Millar,  Craster,  Simpson,  Rose,  Oiffard,  Gregory,  Desmoulins,  Lloyd,  Sherrard. — 
Croeer. 

»  It  would  be  naturally  inferred,  from  Mr.  Boswell's  account,  that  the  acquaintance  be- 
tween Johason  and  Sir  Joshua  took  place  so  early  as  at  the  time  when  the  former  resided  Sn 


*"''■  ^-  SIR   JOSHUA    REYNOLDS.  201 

as  I  have  observed  above,  had,  from  the  first  reading  of  his  Life  of 
Savage,  conceived  a  very  high  admiration  of  Johnson's  powers  of 
writing.  His  conversation  no  less  delighted  hun  ;  and  he  cultivated 
nit  acqunintance  with  the  Inudable  zeal  of  one  who  was  ambitious 
of  general  improvement.  Sir  Joshua,  indeed,  was  lucky  enough,  at 
their  very  first  meeting,  to  make  a  remark,  which  was  so  much 
above  the  common-place  style  of  conversation,  that  Johnson  at  once 
perceived  that  Reynolds  had  the  habit  of  thinking  for  himself.  The 
ladies  were  regretting  the  death  of  a  friend,  to  whom  they  owed 
great  obligations  ;  upon  which  Reynolds  observed,  "You  have, 
however,  the  comfort  of  being  relieved  from  a  burthen  of  gratitude." 
They  were  shocked  a  little  at  this  alleviating  suggestion,  as  too 
selfish  ;  but  Johnson  defended  it  in  his  clear  and  forcible  manner, 
and  was  much  pleased  with  the  mind,  the  fair  view  of  human 
nature/  which  it  exhibited,  like  some  of  the  reflections  of  Rochefou- 
cault.  The  consequence  was,  that  he  went  home  with  Reynolds,  and 
supped  with  him. 

Sir  Joshua  told  me  a  pleasant  characteristical  anecdote  of  John- 
son about  the  time  of  their  first  acquaintance.  When  they  were 
one  evening  together  at  the  Miss  Cotterells',  the  then  Duchess  of 
Argyle  "  and  another  lady  of  high  rank  came  in.  Johnson,  thinking 
that  the  Miss  Cotterells  were  too  much  engrossed  by  them,  and  that 
he  and  his  friend  were  neglected,  as  low  company  of  whom  they 
were  somewhat  ashamed,  grew  angry  ;  and  resolving  to  shock  their 
supposed   pride,  by  making  their  great  visitors  imagine  that  his 

Castle  street.  This  can  hardly  have  been  the  case.  Reynolds,  then  a  youth  under  age, 
passed  the  years  1741  and  1742  in  London,  but  did  not  again  revisit  the  metropolis  till  the  end 
of  1752.  (See  Northcote's  Life,  pp.  12,  31,  and  82.)  That  the  acquaintance  did  not  com- 
mence on  the  first  visit  is  proved  by  its  having  occurred  after  the  publication  of  the  Life  ol 
Savage,  which  was  in  1744  Barber  also  must  have  been  in  error  when  he  described  Reyrolds 
as  one  of  Johnson's  intimates  at  the  period  of  his  wife's  death. — Croker 

■  Johnson  himself  has  a  sentiment  somewhat  similar  in  his  87th  Rambler  : — 'There  are 
mhids  so  impatient  of  inferiority,  that  their  gratitude  is  a  species  of  revenge,  and  they  return 
benefits,  not  because  recompense  is  a  pleasure,  but  because  obligation  is  a  pain." — 
J.  BoswKLL,  jun  This  is,  no  doubt,  "a  somewhat  similar  sentiment;"  but,  in  the  Rambler, 
Johnson  mentions  it  with  the  censure  he  deserves  ;  whereas,  in  the  text,  he  is  represented  ai 
applauding  it.  Such  an  observation  is  very  little  like  the  usual  good  mannei-s,  good  nature, 
and  good  sense  of  Sir  Joshua  ;  and  we  cannot  but  suspect  the  authority,  whatever  it  was,  oc 
which  Boswell  admitted  this  anecdote. — Croker. 

^  Jane  Warburton,  second  wife  of  John  second  Duke  of  Argyle.  His  Grace  died  in  1743, 
She  survived  till  1767.- -Croker. 

9* 


20*2  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  '^ 

friend  and  he  were  low  indeed,  he  addressed  himself  in  a  loud  tone 
to  Mr.  Reynolds,  saying,  "  How  much  do  you  think  you  and  I  could 
get  in  a  weeli,  if  we  were  to  work  as  hard  as  we  could  ?" — as  if  they 
had  been  common  mechanics.' 

His  acquaintance  with  Bennet  Langton,  Esq.,  of  Langton,  in  Lin- 
colnshire, another  much  valued  friend,  commenced  soon  after  the 
conclusion  of  his  Rambler  ;  which  that  gentleman,  then  a  youth,  had 
read  with  so  much  admiration,  that  he  came  to  London  chiefly  with 
a  view  of  endeavouring  to  be  introduced  to  its  author.*  By  a  for- 
tunate chance,  he  happened  to  take  lodgings  in  a  house  where  Mr. 
Levett  frequently  visited  ;  and  having  mentioned  his  wish  to  his 
landlaily,  she  introduced  him  to  Mr.  Levett,  who  readily  obtained 
Johnson's  permission  to  bring  Mr.  Langton  to  him  ;  as,  indeed, 
Johnson,  during  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  had  no  shyness,  real  or 
affected,  but  was  easy  of  access  to  all  who  were  properly  recom- 
mended, and  even  wished  to  see  numbers  at  his  levee,  as  his  morning 

'  Mrs.  Chapone,  in  one  of  her  letters  to  Miss  Carter,  gives  the  following  account  of  her 
meeting  Johnson  and  Miss  Williams  at  Richardson's  country-house,  near  Fulham,  about  this 
time : — 

"  10th  July,  1752. 

"  We  had  a  visit,  whilst  at  Northend,  from  your  friend  Mr.  Johnson  and  poor  Mrs.  Williams. 
I  was  charmed  with  his  behaviour  to  her,  which  waii  like  that  of  a  fond  father  to  his  daughter. 
She  seemed  much  pleased  with  her  visit ;  showed  very  good  sense,  with  a  great  deal  of 
modesty  and  humility  ;  and  so  much  patience  and  cheerfulness  under  her  misfortune,  that  it 
doubled  my  concern  for  her.  Mr.  Johnson  was  very  communicative  and  entertaining,  and 
did  me  the  honour  to  address  most  of  his  discourse  to  me.  I  had  the  assurance  to  dispute 
with  him  on  the  subject  of  human  malignity,  and  wondered  to  hear  a  man,  who,  by  his 
actions,  shows  s"^  much  benevolence,  maintain  that  the  human  heart  is  naturally  malevolent, 
and  that  all  the  benevolence  we  see  in  the  few  who  are  good  is  acquired  by  reason  and  reli- 
gion. You  may  believe  I  entirely  disagreed  with  him,  being,  as  you  know,  fully  persuaded 
that  benevolence,  or  the  love  of  our  fellow-creatures,  is  as  much  a  part  of  our  natures  as  self- 
love  ;  and  that  it  cannot  be  suppressed  or  extinguished  without  great  violence  from  the  force 
of  other  passions.  I  told  him,  I  suspected  him  of  these  bad  notions  from  some  of  his  Ram- 
blers, and  had  accused  him  to  you ;  but  that  you  had  persuaded  me  I  had  mistaken  his  sense. 
To  which  he  answered,  that  if  he  had  betrayed  such  sentiments  in  the  Ramblers,  it  was  with- 
out design ;  for  that  he  believed  that  the  doctrine  of  human  malevolence,  though  a  true  one, 
is  not  a  useful  one,  and  ought  not  to  be  published  to  the  world.  Is  there  any  truth  that 
would  not  be  useful,  or  that  should  not  be  known  ?" — Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  T2. 

^  Mr.  Langton  was  born  about  1787,  and  entered,  as  Dr.  Hall  informs  me.  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  July  7,  1757.  So  much  of  his  history  is  told  with  that  of  Dr.  Johnson's,  that  it  la 
unnecessary  to  say  more  in  this  place,  except  that  he  was  remarkable  for  his  knowledge  of 
Greek,  and  that  he  seems,  at  one  time  of  his  life,  to  have  practised  engineering  as  a  profes- 
Blon.  On  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  he  succeeded  him  as  professor  of  ancient  literature  in  t\t% 
Royal  Academy.    He  died  on  the  10th  of  December,  1801,  and  was  buried  at  Southampton,  • 

CaOKER. 


*'*'-^-  BENNET    LANGTON.  203 

circle  of  company  might,  with  strict  propriety,  be  called.  Mr 
Langton  was  exceedingly  surprised  when  the  sage  first  appeared 
He  had  not  received  the  smallest  intimation  of  his  figure,  dress,  or 
manner.  From  perusing  his  writings,  he  fancied  he  should  see  a 
decent,  well-drest,  in  short,  a  remarkably,  decorous  philosopher. 
Instead  of  which,  down  from  his  bed-chamber,  about  noon,  came,  as 
newly  risen,  a  huge  uncouth  figure,  with  a  little  dark  wig  which 
scarcely  covered  his  head,  and  his  clothes  hanging  loose  about  him. 
But  his  conversation  was  so  rich,  so  animated,  and  so  forcible,  and 
his  religious  and  political  notions  so  congenial  with  those  in  which 
Langton  had  been  educated,  that  he  conceived  for  him  that  venera- 
tion and  attachment  which  he  ever  preserved.  Johnson  was  not  the 
less  ready  to  love  Mr.  Langton,  for  his  being  of  a  very  ancient 
family  ;  for  I  have  heard  him  say,  with  pleasure,  "  Langton,  sir,  has 
a  grant  of  free-warren  from  -Henry  the  Second  ;  and  Cardinal  Ste- 
phen Langton,  in  King  John's  reign,  was  of  this  family." 

Mr.  Langton  afterwards  went  to  pursue  his  studies  at  Trinity 
College,  Oxford,  where  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  his  fellow- 
student,  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk  ; '  who,  though  their  opinions  and 
modes  of  hfe  were  so  different,  that  it  seemed  utterly  improbable 
that  they  should  at  all  agree,  had  so  ardent  a  love  of  literature,  so 
acute  an  understanding,  such  elegance  of  manners,  and  so  well  dis- 
cerned the  excellent  qualities  of  Mr.  Langton,  a  gentleman  eminent 
not  only  for  worth  and  learning,  but  for  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
entertaining  conversation,  that  they  became  intimate  friends. 

Johnson,  soon  after  this  acquaintance  began,  passed  a  considera- 
ble time  at  Oxford.  He  at  first  thought  it  strange  that  Langton 
Bhould  associate  so  much  with  one  who  had  the  character  of  being 
loose,  both  in  his  principles  and  practice  ;  but,  by  degrees,  he  him 
tiimself  was  fiiscinated.  Mr.  Beauclerk's  being  of  the  St.  Albau' 
family,  and  having,  in  some  particulars,  a  resemblance  to  Charles 
the  Second,  contributed,  in  Johnson's  imagination,  to  throw  a  lustre 
upon  his  other  qualities  ;  and,  in  a  short  time,  the  moral,  pious 
Johnson,  and  the  gay,  dissipated  JBeauclerk,  were  companions. 
"  What  a  coalition  !   (said  Garrick,  when  he  heard  of  this  :)  I  shall 

•  Topham  Eeauderk,  only  son  of  Lord  Sidney  Beauclerk,  thii-d  son  of  the  first  Duke  of  S/.. 
JJbans,  was  oorn  in  1  "89.  and  entered  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  in  Nov.,  1757 


204  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  *^** 

have  my  old  friend  to  bail  out  of  the  Round-house."  But  I  can  bear 
testimony  that  it  was  a  very  agreeable  association.  Beauclerk  was 
too  polite,  and  valued  learning  and  wit  too  much,  to  oflFeud  Johnson 
by  sallies  of  infidelity  or  licentiousness  ;  and  Johnson  delighted  in 
the  good  qualities  of  Beauclerk,  and  hoped  to  correct  the  evil. 
Innumerable  were  the  scenes  in  which  Johnson  was  amused  by  these 
young  men.  Beauclerk  could  take  more  liberty  with  him  than  any- 
body with  whom  I  ever  saw  him  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  Beauclerk 
was  not  spared  by  his  respectable  companion,  when  reproof  was 
proper.  Beauclerk  had  such  a  propensity  to  satire,  that  at  one 
time  Johnson  said  to  him,  "  You  never  open  your  mouth  but  with 
intention  to  give  pain  ;  and  you  have  often  given  me  pain,  not  from 
the  power  of  what  you  said,  but  from  seeing  your  intention."  At 
another  time  applying  to  him,  with  a  slight  alteration,  a  line  of 
Pope,  he  said, — 

"  Thy  love  of  folly,  and  thy  scorn  of  fools — 

Every  thing  thou  dost  shews  the  one,  and  every  thing  thou  say'st 
the  other."  At  another  time  he  said  to  him,  "  Thy  body  is  all  vice, 
and  thy  mind  all  virtue."  Beauclerk  not  seeming  to  relish  the  com- 
pUment,  Johnson  said,  "  Nay,  sir,  Alexander  the  Great,  marching 
in  triumph  into  Babylon,  could  not  have  desired  to  have  had  more 
said  to  him.' 

Johnson  was  some  time  with  Beauclerk  at  his  house  at  Windsor, 
where  he  was  entertained  with  experiments  in  natural  philosophy. 
One  Sunday,  when  the  weather  was  very  fine,  Beauclerk  enticed 
him,  insensibly,  to  saunter  about  all  the  morning.  They  went  into 
a  church-yard,  in  the  time  of  divine  service,  and  Johnson  laid  him- 
self down  at  his  ease  upon  one  of  the  tomb-stones.  *'  Now,  sir, ' 
said  Beauclerk,  "  you  are  like  Hogarth's  Idle  Apprentice."  When 
Johnson  got  his  pension,  Beauclerk  said  to  him,  in  the  humorous 
phrase  of  Falstafi",  "  I  hope  you'll  now  purge  and  live  cleanly,  like  a 
gentleman." 

One  night,  when  Beauclerk  and  Langton  had  supped  at  a  tavern 
iu  London,  and  sat  till  about  three  in  the  morning,  it  came  into  theif 
heads  to  go  and  knock  up  Johnson,  and  see  if  they  could  prevail  on 
him  to  join  them  in  a  ramble.     They  rapped  violently  at  the  dooi^ 


*TAT.  4d.  BKAUCLERK  AND  LANGTON.  205 

of  his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  till  at  last  he  appeared  iu  his  shirt, 
with  his  little  black  wig  on  the  top  of  his  head,  instead  of  a  night- 
cap, and  a  poker  in  his  hand,  imagining,  probably,  that  some  ruf- 
fians were  coming  to  attack  him.  When  he  discovered  who  they 
were,  and  was  told  their  errand,  he  smiled,  and  with  great  good- 
humour  agreed  to  their  proposal:  "  What,  is  it  you,  you  dogs  !  I'll 
have  a  frisk  with  you."  '  He  was  soon  drest,  and  they  sallied  forth 
together  into  Covent  Garden,  where  the  green-grocers  and  fruiterers 
were  beginning  to  arrange  their  hampers,  just  come  in  from  the 
country.  Johnson  made  some  attempts  to  help  them  ;  but  the 
honest  gardeners  stared  so  at  his  figure  and  manner,  and  odd  inter- 
ference, that  he  soon  saw  his  services  were  not  relished.  They  then 
repaired  to  one  of  the  neighbouring  taverns,  and  made  a  bowl  of 
that  liquor  called  Bishop,  which  Johnson  had  always  liked:  while,  iu 
joyous  contempt  of  sleep,  from  which  he  had  been  roused,  he  re- 
peated the  festive  lines  : 

"  Short,  0  short  then  be  thy  reign, 
And  give  us  to  the  world  again !" 

They  did  not  stay  long,  but  walked  down  to  the  Thames,  took  a 
boat,  and  rowed  down  to  Billingsgate.  Beauclerk  and  Johnson 
were  so  well  pleased  with  their  amusement,  that  they  resolved  to 
persevere  in  dissipation  for  the  rest  of  the  day:  but  Langton  deserted 
them,  being  engaged  to  breakfast  with  some  young  ladies.  John- 
son scolded  him  for  "  leaving  his  social  friends,  to  go  and  sit  with  a 
tset  of  wretched  un-idea'd  girls."  Garrick  being  told  of  this  ramble, 
said  to  him  smartly,  "  I  heard  of  your  frolic  t'other  night.  You'll 
be  in  the  Chronicle."  *  Upon  which  Johnson  afterwards  observed, 
"  He  durst  not  do  such  a  thing.     His  wife  would  not  lei  him  !" 

'  Johnson,  as  Mr.  Kemble  observes  to  me,  might  here  have  had  in  his  thoughts  the  wonls 
of  Sir  John  Brute  (a  character  which,  doubtless,  he  had  seen  represented  by  Garrick),  who 
uses  nearly  the  same  expression  in  "The  Provoked  Wife,"  Act  iii.  Scene  1. — Malone. 

'  Mr.  Langton  has  recollected,  or  Dr.  Johnson  repeated,  the  passage  wrong.  The  lines  afa 
hi  Lord  Laasdowne's  Drinking  Song  to  Sleep,  and  run  thus  : 

"  Short,  very  short  be  then  thy  reign, 
For  I'm  in  haste  to  laugh  and  drink  again." 

'  As  Johnson's  companions  in  this  frolic  were  both  thirty  years  younger  than  he,  it  is  nc 
vender  that  Garrick  should  be  a  little  alarmed  at  such  extravagances.    Nor  can  we  bel. 


206  LIFK    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

He  entered  upon  this  year,  1753,  with  his  usual  piety,  as  appears 
from  the  following  prayer,  which  I  transcribed  from  that  part  of 
his  diary  which  he  burnt  a  few  days  before  his  death: 

"  January  1,  1753,  N.  S.,  which  I  shall  use  for  the  future. 

"  Almighty  God,  who  hast  continued  my  life  to  this  day,  grant  tiiivl,  by  the 
assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  I  may  improTe  the  time  which  thou  shalt  grant 
me,  to  my  eternal  salvation.  Halve  me  to  remember,  to  thy  glory,  thy  judg- 
ments and  thy  mercies.  Make  me  so  to  consider  the  loss  of  my  wife,  whom 
thou  hast  talvcn  from  me,  that  it  may  dispose  me,  by  thy  grace,  to  lead  the 
residue  of  my  life  in  thy  fear.  Grant  this,  0  Lord,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 
Amen."  * 

He  now  relieved  the  drudgery  of  his  Dictionary,  and  the  melan- 
eholy  of  his  grief,  by  taking  an  active  part  in  the  composition  of 
"  The  Adventurer,"  in  which  he  began  to  write  April  10,  marking 
his  essays  with  the  signature  T,  by  which  most  of  his  papers  in  that 
collection  ^re  distinguished  :  those,  however,  which  have  that  signa- 
tnre,  and  also  that  of  Mysargyrus,  were  not  written  by  him,  but,  as 
I  suppose,  by  Dr.  Bathurst.  Indeed,  Johnson's  energy  of  thought 
and  richness  of  language,  are  still  more  decisive  marks  than  any 
signature.  As  a  proof  of  this,  my  readers,  I  imagine,  will  not  doubt 
that  No.  39,  on  Sleep,  is  his;  for  it  not  only  has  the  general  texture 
and  colour  of  his  style,  but  the  authors  with  whom  he  was  peculiarly 
conversant  are  readily  introduced  in  it  in  cursory  allusion.  The 
translation  of  a  passage  in  Statius,*  quoted  in  that  paper,  and 
marked  C.  B.,  has  been  erroneously  ascribed  to  Dr.  Bathurst,  whose 
Christian  name  was  Richard.  How  much  this  amiable  man  actu- 
ally contributed  to  "  The  Adventurer"  cannot  be  known.  Let  me 
add,  that  Hawkesworth's  imitations  of  Johnson  are  sometimes  so 
happy,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  distinguish  them  with  cer- 
tainty, from  the  composition  of  his  great  archetype.     Hawkesworth 

Bmiling  at  the  philosopher  of  fifty  scolding  a  young  man  of  twenty  for  having  the  had  taste 
to  prefer  the  company  of  a  set  of  wretched  un-idea'd  girls. — Croker.  [See  Johnson's  rear 
sons  for  liking  the  society  of  men  much  younger  than  himself,  ^o*/,  July  21,  1763. 

■  "  We  may  learu  from  Dr.  Johnson's  devotional  pieces  the  proper  use  to  be  made  of  the 
beginning  of  a  nuw  year  (as  suggesting  useful  and  appropriate  topics  of  meditation),  and  by 
the  example  of  that  excellent  person,  how  much  a  pious  mind  is  wont  to  be  affected  by  this 
memorial  of  the  lapse  of  life." — Paley.J 

"^  This  is  a  slight  inaccuracy.  The  Latin  Sapphics  translated  by  C.  B.  in  that  paper,  wer« 
written  by  Cowley,  and  are  in  his  fourth  book  on  Plants. — Malone. 


*""■•**■  THE    ADVENTURER.  201 

was  his  closest  imitator,  a  circumstance  of  which  that  writer  would 
once  have  been  proud  to  be  told  ;  though,  when  he  had  become 
elated  by  having  risen  into  some  degree  of  consequence,  he,  in  a 
conversation  with  me,  had  the  provoking  effrontery'  to  say  he  was 
not  sensible  of  it. 

Johnson  was  truly  zealous  for  the  success  of  "  The  Adventurer  ;" 
and  very  soon  after  his  engaging  in  it,  he  wrote  the  following 
letter  : 

Letter  22.  TO  THE  REV.  DR.  JOSEPH  WARTON. 

"8th  March,  1T5.3. 

"Dear  Sir, — I  ought  to  have  written  to  you  beTore  now,  but  I  ought  to  do 
many  things  which  I  do  not ;  nor  can  I,  indeed,  claim  any  merit  from  this  let- 
ter ;  for  being  desired  by  the  authors  and  proprietor  of  the  Adventurer  to 
look  out  for  another  hand,  my  thoughts  necessarily  fixed  upon  you,  whose 
fund  of  literature  will  enable  you  to  assist  them,  with  very  httle  interruption 
of  your  studies. 

"  They  desire  you  to  engage  to  furnish  one  paper  a  month,  at  two  guineas  a 
paper,  which  you  may  very  readily  perform.  We  have  considered  that  a 
paper  should  consist  of  pieces  of  imagination,  pictures  of  life,  and  disquisitions 
of  literature.  The  part  which  depends  on  the  imagination  is  very  well  supplied, 
as  you  will  find  when  you  read  the  paper ;  for  descriptions  of  life,  there  is 
now  a  treaty  almost  made  with  an  author  and  an  authoress ;  and  the  province 
of  criticism  and  literature  they  are  very  desirous  to  assign  to  the  commentators 
on  Virgil. 

"  I  hope  this  proposal  will  not  be  rejected,  and  tliat  the  next  post  will  bring 
us  your  compliance.  I  speak  as  one  of  the  fraternity,  though  I  have  no  part 
in  the  paper,  beyond  now  and  then  a  motto ;  but  two  of  the  writers  are  my 
particular  friends,  and  I  hope  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  third  united  to  them, 
will  not  be  denied  to,  dear  sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  ser- 
vant, "  Sam.  Johnson." 

The  consequence  of  this  letter  was.  Dr.  Wartou's  enriching  the 
collection  with  several  admirable  essays.* 

•  This  is  not  a  tone  in  which  Mr.  Boswell  should  have  allowed  himself  to  speak  of  Dr. 
Hawkesworth  on  such  an  occasion ;  the  improved  style  of  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  Idler,  might  as 
well  be  said  to  be  borrowed  from  the  Adventurer,  as  that  of  the  Adventurer  from  the  Ram- 
bler. Johnson  and  Hawkesworth,  may  have  influenced  each  other,  and  yet  either  might  say, 
withoul  fffronter'y,  that  he  was  not  conscious  of  it.  Boswell  had  the  mania  of  imagining  that 
every  eminent  writer  of  the  day  owed  his  fame  to  being  an  imitator  of  Johnson  ;  we  shall  see 
several  instances  of  it  in  the  course  of  the  work. — Croker. 

'  In  this  place,  though  rather  out  of  date,  may  be  given  Johnson's  letter  to  Warton  on  tU« 
eooclusion  of  the  Adventurer  : — 


208  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  "58 

Johnson's  saying,  "  I  have  no  part  in  the  paper  beyond  now  and 
then  a  motto,"  may  seem  inconsistent  with  his  being  the  author  of 
the  papers  marked  T.  But  he  had,  at  this  time,  written  only  one 
number  ;  and  besides,  even  at  any  after  period,  he  might  have 
used  the  same  expression,  considering  it  as  a  point  of  honour  not  to 
own  them  ;  for  Mrs.  Williams  told  me  that,  "  as  he  had  given  those 
Essays  to  Dr.  Bathurst,  who  sold  them  at  two  guineas  each,  he- 
ncver  would  own  them  ;  nay,  he  used  to  say  he  did  not  write  them  : 
but  the  fact  was,  that  he  dictated  them,  while  Bathurst  wrote."  I 
read  to  him  Mrs.  Williams's  account  ;  he  smiled,  and  said  uothing. 

I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  casuistry  by  which  the  produc- 
tions of  one  person  are  thus  passed  upon  the  world  for  the  produc- 
tions of  another.  I  allow  that  not  only  knowledge,  but  powers  and 
qualities  of  mind  may  be  communicated  ;  but  the  actual  effect  of 
individual  exertion  never  can  be  transferred,  with  truth,  to  any  other 
than  its  own  original  cause.  One  person's  child  may  be  made  the 
child  of  another  person  by  adoption,  as  among  the  Romans,  or  by 
the  ancient  Jewish  mode  of  a  wife  having  children  born  to  her  upon 
her  knees,  by  her  handmaid.  But  these  were  children  in  a  different 
sense  from  that  of*  nature.  It  was  clearly  understood  that  they 
were  not  of  the  blood  of  their  nominal  parents.     So  in  hterary  chil- 

Letteb  23.     TO  THE  REV.  DR.  JOSEPH  WARTON. 

"  8th  March,  1754. 

•'Wear  Sir, — I  cannot  but  congratulate  you  upon  the  conclusion  of  a  work,  in  which  you 
have  borne  so  great  a  part  with  so  much  reputation.  I  immediately  determined  that  your 
name  should  be  mentioned,  but  the  paper  having  been  some  time  written,  Mr.  Hawkesworth, 
I  suppose,  did  not  care  to  disorder  its  text,  and  therefore  put  your  eulogj'  in  a  note.  He  and 
every  other  man  mentions  your  papers  of  criticism  with  great  commendation,  though  not  with 
greater  than  they  deserve. 

"  But  how  little  can  we  venture  to  exult  in  any  intellectual  powers  or  literary  attainments 
when  we  consider  the  condition  of  poor  Collins.  I  knew  him  a  few  years  ago  full  of  hopes  and 
full  of  projects,  versed  in  many  languages,  high  in  fancy,  and  strong  in  retention.  This  busy 
and  forcible  mind  is  now  under  the  government  of  those  who  lately  would  not  have  been  able 
to  comprehend  the  least  and  most  narrow  of  its  designs.  What  do  you  hear  of -him?  are  there 
hopes  of  his  recovery?  or  is  he  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  misery  and  degradation — 
perhaps  with  complete  consciousness  of  his  calamity  ? 

"  You  have  flattered  us,  dear  Sir,  for  some  time  with  the  hope  of  seeing  you  ;  when  you  come 
you  will  find  your  reputation  increased,  and  with  it  the  kindness  of  those  friends  who  do  not 
envy  you  ;  for  success  always  produces  either  love  or  hatred.  I  enter  my  name  among  those 
that  love,  and  love  you  more  and  more  in  proportion  as  by  writing  more  you  are  more 
known  ;  and  believe,  that  as  you  continue  to  diffuse  among  us  your  integrity  and  learning,  I 
shall  be  still  with  greater  esteem  and  affection,  dear  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  humble  ser- 
vant, '.'Sam.  JOHNSOR," 


■^TAT.  44  THE    ADVENTURER.  209 

dren,  an  author  may  give  the  profits  and  fame  of  his  composition  tc 
another  man,  but  cannot  make  that  other  the  real  author.  A 
Highland  gentleman,  a  younger  branch  of  a  family,  once  consulted 
me  if  he  could  not  validly  purchase  the  Chieftainship  of  his  family, 
from  the  Chief  who  is  willing  to  sell  it.  I  told  him  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  acquire,  by  purchase,  a  right  to  be  a  different  person 
from  what  he  really  was  :  for  that  the  right  of  Chieftainship 
attached  to  the  blood  of  primogeniture,  and,  therefore,  was  incapa- 
ble of  being  transferred.  I  added,  that  though  Esau  sold  his  birth- 
right, or  the  advantages  belonging  to  it,  he  still  remained  the  first- 
born of  his  parents  ;  and  that  whatever  agreement  a  Chief  might 
make  with  any  of  the  clan,  the  Heralds'  OfBce  could  not  admit  of 
the  metamorphosis,  or  with  any  decency  attest  that  the  younger 
was  the  elder  ;  but  I  did  not  convince  the  worthy  gentleman. 

Johnson's  papers  in  the  Adventurer  are*very  similar  to  those  of 
the  Rambler  ;  but  being  rather  more  varied  in  their  subjects,*  and 
being  mixed  with  essays  by  other  writers,  upon  topics  more  gene- 
rally attractive  than  even  the  most  elegant  ethical  discourses,  the 
sale  of  the  work,  at  first,  was  more  extensive.  Without  meaning, 
however,  to  depreciate  the  Adventurer,  I  must  observe,  that  as  the 
value  of  the  Rambler  came,  in  the  progress  of  time,  to  be  better 
known,  it  grew  upon  the  public  estimation,  and  that  its  sale  has  far 
exceeded  that  of  any  other  periodical  papers  since  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne. 

In  one  of  the  books  of  his  diary  I  find  the  following  entry  : 

"April  3,  1753.  I  began  the  second  vol.  of  my  Dictionary,  room  being  left 
in  the  first  for  Preface,  Grammar,  and  History,  none  of  them  yet  begun. 

"  0  God,  who  hast  hitherto  supported  me,  enable  me  to  proceed  in  tliis 
labour,  and  in  the  whole  task  of  my  present  state ;  that  when  I  shall  render 
up,  at  the  last  day,  an  account  of  the  talent  committed  to  me,  I  may  recei"ve 
pardon,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.     Amen.'^ 

[Letter  24.  TO  MR.  RICHARDSON. 

"  26th  Sept.,  1763. 

"Dear  Sir  : — I  return  you  my  sincerest  thanks  for  the  volumes  of  your  new 

•  Dr.  Johnson  honered  and  somewhat  disguised  his  style,  in  writing  the  Adventurers,  i« 
order  that  his  papers  might  pass  for  those  of  Dr.  Bathurst,  to  whom  he  consigned  llie  profits 
This  was  Ilawkeswcrtji's  opinion. — Burnev. 


21.0  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  _  1'^68- 

work;'  but  it  is  a  kind  of  tyrannical  kindness  to  give  only  so  much  at  a  time 
as  makes  more  longed  for ;  but  that  will  probably  be  thought,  even  of  the 
whole,  when  you  have  given  it. 

"  I  have  no  objection  but  to  the  preface,  in  which  you  first  mention  the 
letters  as  fallen  by  some  chance  into  your  hands,  and  afterwards  mention  your 
health  as  such,  that  you  almost  despaired  of  going  through  your  plan.  If  you 
were  to  require  my  opinion  which  part  should  be  changed,  I  should  be  inclined 
to  the  suppression  of  that  part  which  seems  to  disclaim  the  composition. 
What  is  modesty  if  it  deserts  from  truth  ?  Of  what  use  is  the  disguise  by 
which  nothing  is  concealed  ? 

"  You  must  forgive  this,  because  it  is  meant  well. 

"  I  thank  you  once  more,  dear  sir,  for  your  books  ;  but  cannot  I  prevail  thia 
time  for  an  index  ? — such  I  wished,  and  shall  wish,  to  Clarissa."  Suppose  that 
in  one  volume  an  accurate  index  was  made  to  the  three  works — but  while  I  am 
writing  an  objection  arises — such  an  index  to  the  three  would  look  like  the 
preclusion  of  a  fourth,  to  which  I  will  never  contribute  ;  for  if  I  cannot  benefit 
mankind,  I  hope  never  t«  injure  them.  I  am,  sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most 
humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."] 

He  this  year  favoured  Mrs.  Lenox  with  a  Dedication*  to  the 
Earl  of  Orrery,  of  her  "  Shakspeare  Illustrated."  * 

1  "  Sir  Charles  Grandison,"  which  was  originally  published  in  successive  volumes.  Thia 
relates  to  the  sixth  and  seventh  volumes. — Croker. 

^  Richardson  adopted  Johnson's  hint ;  for,  in  1755,  he  published  in  octavo,  "  A  Collection 
of  the  Moral  and  Instructive  Sentiments,  Maxims,  Cautions,  and  Reflections,  contained  in  the 
Histories  of  Pamela,  Clarissa,  and  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  digested  under  proper  heads."  It 
is  remarkable,  that  both  to  this  book,  and  to  the  first  two  volumes  of  Clarissa,  is  prefixed  a 
Preface  &y  a  friend.  The  "friend,"  in  this  latter  instance,  was  the  celebrated  Dr.  M'arbur- 
ton.- — Malone. 

^  Johnson's  acquaintance  was  now  sought  by  persons  of  the  first  eminence  in  literature,  and 
%is  house,  in  respect  of  the  conversations  there,  became  an  academy.  Many  persons  were 
•lesirous  of  adding  him  to  the  number  of  their  friends.  Invitations  to  dine  with  such  of  those 
is  he  liked,  he  so  seldom  declined,  that,  to  a  friend  of  his,  he  said,  "  I  never  but  once,  upon 
a  resolution  to  employ  myself  in  study,  balked  an  invitation  out  to  dinner,  and  then  I  stayed 
at  home  and  did  nothing."  Little,  however,  did  that  laxity  of  temper,  which  this  confession 
leems  to  imply,  retard  the  progress  of  the  great  work  in  which  he  was  employed  :  the  conclu- 
lion,  and  also  the  perfection  of  his  dictionary,  were  objects  from  which  his  attention  was  not 
to  be  diverted.  The  avocations  he  gave  way  to  were  such  only  as,  when  complied  with, 
lerved  to  invigorate  his  mind  to  the  performance  of  his  engagements  to  his  employers  and  the 
public,  and  hasten  the  approach  of  the  day  that  was  to  reward  his  labour  with  applause. 

Mrs.  Lenox,  a  lady  now  well  known  in  the  literary  world,  had  written  a  novel,  entitled 
"  The  Life  of  Harriot  Stuart,"  which  in  the  spring  of  1751  was  ready  for  publication.  One 
evening  at  the  [Ivy  Lane]  Club,  Johnson  proposed  to  us  the  celebrating  the  birth  of  Mrs. 
Lenox's  fi-rst  literary  child,  as  he  called  her  book,  by  a  whole  night  spent  in  festivity.  LTpon 
his  mentioning  it  to  me,  I  told  hira  I  had  never  sat  up  a  whole  night  in  my  life  ;  but  he  conti- 
nuing to  press  me,  and  saying,  that  I  should  find-  great  delight  in  it,  I,  as  did  all  the  r?5t  a' 


'^•'••^^•^  MRS.    LENOX.  Ml 

our  compaily,  consented.  The  place  appointed  was  the  Devil  Tavern,  and  there,  about  the 
hour  of  eight,  Mrs.  Lenox  and  her  husband,  and  a  lady  of  her  acquaintance,  still  [1785]  liv- 
ing, as  also  the  club,  and  friends  to  the  number  of  near  twenty,  assembled.  The  supper  was 
elegant,  and  Johnson  had  directed  that  a  magnificent  hot  apple-pie  should  make  a  part  of  it, 
and  this  he  would  have  stuck  with  bay  leaves,  because,  forsooth,  Mrs.  Lenox  was  an 
authoress,  and  had  written  verses  ;  and  further,  he  had  prepared  for  her  a  crown  of  laurel, 
with  which,  but  not  till  he  had  invoked  the  muses  by  some  ceremonies  of  his  own  invention, 
he  encircled  her  brows.  The  night  passed,  as  must  be  imagined,  in  pleasant  conversation 
and  harmless  mirth,  intermingled,  at  different  periods,  with  the  refreshments  of  coffee  and 
tea.  About  five,  Johnson's  face  shone  with  meridian  splendour,  though  his  drink  had  been 
only  lemonade  ;  but  the  far  greater  part  of  the  company  had  deserted  the  colours  of  Bacchu: , 
and  were  with  difficulty  rallied  to  partake  of  a  second  refreshment  of  coffee,  which  was  scarcely 
ended  when  the  day  began  to  dawn.  This  phenomenon  began  to  put  us  in  mind  of  our 
reckoning ;  but  the  waiters  were  all  so  overcome  with  sleep,  that  it  was  two  hours  before  a 
bill  could  be  had,  and  it  was  not  till  near  eight  that  the  creaking  of  the  street  door  gave  the 
ilgnal  for  our  departure. — Hawkihb. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

1154. 

Johnson  writes  the  "  Life  of  Cave  — The  Dictionary — Lord  Chesterfield — His  alleged  Neglec 
of  Johnson — His  Papers  in  "  The  AVorld,"  in  Kecommendation  of  the  Dictionary — Letter  tc 
the  Earl  Bolingbroke's  Works  edited  by  Mallet — -Johnson  visits  Oxford  for  the  purpose  »f 
consulting  the  Libraries — His  Conversations  with  Mr.  Warton,  Mr.  AVise,  and  others — SU 
Robert  Chambers — Letters  to  Warton — Collins. 

In  1154  I  can  trace  notning  published  by  him,  except  his  numbers 
of  the  Adventurer,  and  "  The  Life  of  Edward  Cave,"  in  the  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  for  February.  In  biography  there  can  be  no  ques- 
tion that  he  excelled,  beyond  all  who  have  attempted  that  species 
of  composition  ;  upon  which,  indeed,  he  set  the  higheit  value.  To 
the  minute  selection  of  characteristical  circumstances,  for  which  the 
ancients  were  remarkable,  he  added  a  philosophical  research,  and 
the  most  perspicuous  and  energetic  language.  Cave  was  certainly 
a  man  of  estimable  qualities,  and  was  eminently  diligent  and  success- 
ful in  his  own  business,  which,  doubtless,  entitled  him  to  respect. 
But  he  was  peculiarly  fortunate  in  being  recorded  by  Johnston  ; 
wlio,  of  the  narrow  life  of  a  printer  and  publisher,  without  any 
digressions  or  adventitious  circumstances,  has  made  an  interesting 
and  agreeable  nan'ative. 

The  Dictionary,  we  may  believe,  afforded  Johnson  full  occupation 
this  year.  As  it  approached  to  its  conclusion,  he  probably  worked 
with  redoubled  vigour,  as  seamen  increase  their  exertions  and  ala- 
crity when  they  have  a  near  prospect  of  their  haven. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  to  whom  Johnson  had  paid  the  high  compli- 
ment  of  addressing  to  his  lordship  the  Plan  of  his  Dictionary,  had 
behaved  to  him  in  such  a  manner  as  to  excite  his  contempt  and  in- 
dignation.  The  world  has  been  for  many  years  amused  with  a  story 
confidently  told,  and  as  confidently  repeated  with  additional  circum- 
stances, that  a  sudden  disgust  was  taken  by  Johnson  upon  occasiou 

212 


**'^*-^  LORD    CHESTERFIELD.  2lS 

of  bis  having  been  one  day  kept  long  in  waiting  in  bis  lordship's 
antechamber,  for  which  the  reason  assigned  was,  that  he  had  com- 
pany with  him  ;  and  that  at  last,  when  the  door  opened,  out  walked 
Colley  Gibber  ;  and  that  Johnson  was  so  violently  provoked  when 
he  found  for  whom  he  had  been  so  long  excluded,  that  he  went  away 
in  a  passion,  and  never  would  return.  I  remember  having  mentioned 
this  story  to  George  Lord  Lyttelton,  who  told  me  he  was  very  inti- 
mate with  Lord  Chesterfield  ;  and,  holding  it  as  a  well-known  truth, 
defended  Lord 'Chesterfield  by  saying,  that  "Cibber,  who  had  been 
introduced  familiarly  by  the  back-stairs,  had  probably  not  been  there 
above  ten  minutes."  It  may  seem  strange  even  to  entertain  a  doubt 
concerning  a  story  so  long  and  so  widely  current,  and  thus  implicitly 
adopted,  if  not  sanctioned,  by  the  authority. which  I  have  mentioned; 
but  Johnson  himself  assured  me,  that  there  was  not  the  least  foun- 
dation for  it.  He  told  me,  that  there  never  was  any  particular  inci- 
dent which  produced  a  quarrel  between  Lord  Chesterfield  and  him  ; 
but  that  his  lordship's  continued  neglect  was  the  reason  why  he  re- 
solved to  have  no  connection  with  him. 

When  the  Dictionary^as  upon  the  eve  of  pubUcation,  Lord  Ches- 
terfield, who,  it  is  said,  had  flattered  himself  with  expectations  that 
Johnson  would  dedicate  the  work  to  him,  attempted,  in  a  courtly 
manner,  to  soothe  and  insinuate  himself  with  the  sage,  conscious,  as 
it  would  seem,  of  the  cold  indifference  with  which  he  had  treated  its 
learned  author  ;  and  further  attempted  to  conciliate  him,  by  writing 
two  papers  in  "  The  World,"  in  recommendation  of  the  work  ;  and 
it  must  be  confessed,  that  they  contain  some  studied  compliments, 
so  finely  turned,  that  if  there  had  been  no  previous  offence,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  Johnson  would  have  been  highly  delighted.  Praise,  in 
general,  was  pleasing  to  him  ;  but  by  praise  from  a  man  of  rank  and 
elegant  accomplishments,  he  was  peculiarly  gratified.  His  Lordship 
says  : 

"  I  think  the  public  in  general,  und  the  republic  of  letters  in  particular,  are 
greatly  obliged  to  Mr.  Johnson  for  having  undertaken  and  executed  so  great 
and  desirable  a  work.  Perfection  is  not  to  be  expected  from  man ;  but  if  we 
are  to  judge  by  the  yarious  works  of  Johnson  already  pubhshed,  we  have  good 
reason  to  believe,  that  he  will  bring  this  as  near  to  perfection  as  any  man  could 
do.     The  Plan  of  it,  which  he  published  some  years  ago,  seems  to  me  to  be  a 


S14  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.    .  '^ 

proof  of  it.  Xothing  can  be  more  rationally  imagined,  ov  more  accuraiel?  and 
elegantly  expressed.  I  therefore  recommend  the  previous  perusal  of  it  to  all 
those  who  intend  to  buy  the  Dictionary,  and  who,  I  suppose,  are  all  those  who 
can  afford  it." 

"  It  must  be  owned,  that  our  language  is,  at  pres-^ut,  in  a  state  of  anarchy, 
and  hitherto,  perhaps,  it  may  not  have  been  the  worse  for  it.  During  our  free 
and  open  trade,  many  words  and  expressions  have  been  imported,  adopted,  and 
naturalised  from  other  languages,  which  have  greatly  enriched  our  own.  Let 
it  still  preserve  what  real  strength  and  beauty  it  may  have  borrowed  from 
others ;  but  let  it  not,  like  the  Tarpeian  maid,  be  overwhelmed  and  crushed 
by  unnecessary  ornaments.  The  time  for  discrimination  seems  to  be  now  come. 
Toleration,  adoption,  and  naturalisation  have  r'.in  their  lengths.  Good  order 
and  authority  are  now  necessary.  But  where  ohall  we  find  th»>m,  and,  at  the 
earae  time,  the  obedience  due  to  them?  We  must  have  reconrse  to  the  old 
Roman  expedient  in  times  of  confusion,  and  choose  a  dictator.  Upon  this 
principle,  I  give  my  vote  for  Mr.  Johnson  to  fil\  that  great  and  arduous  post. 
And  I  hereby  declare,  that  I  make  a  total  surrender  of  all  my  rijrhts  and  privi- 
leges in  the  English  language,  as  a  free-born  British  subject,  to  the  said  Mr. 
Johnson,  during  the  term  of  his  dictatorship.  Nay,  more :  I  will  not  only 
obey  him  like  an  old  Roman,  as  my  dictator,  but,  like  a  modern  Roman,  I  will 
implicitly  believe  in  him  as  my  Pope,  and  hold  hiru  to  be  infallible  while  in  the 
ohair,  but  no  longer.  More  than  this  he  cannot  w^  require  ;  for,  I  presume 
that  obedience  can  never  be  expected,  when  there  is  neither  terror  to  enforce, 
nor  interest  to  invite  it." 

"But  a  Grammar,  a  Dictionary,  and  a  History  of  our  ]angu;ige  through  its 
several  stages,  were  still  wanting  at  home,  and  importunately  called  for  from 
abroad.  Mr.  Johnson's  labours  will  now,  I  dare  s*y,  very  fully  supply  that 
want,  and  greatly  contribute  to  the  farther  spreading  of  our  language  in  other 
countries.  Learners  were  discouraged,  by  finding  no  standard  to  resort  to ; 
find,  consequently,  thought  it  incapable  of  any.  They  will  now  be  undeceived 
and  encouraged." 

This  courtly  device  failed  of  its  effect.  Johnson,  who  thought 
that  "  all  was  false  and  hollow,"  despised  the  honeyed  words,  and 
was  even  indignant  that  Lord  Chesterfield  should,  for  a  moment, 
imagine  that  he  could  be  the  dupe  of  such  an  artifice.  His  ex- 
pression to  me  concerning  Lord  Chesterfield,  upon  this  occasion, 
was,  "  Sir,  after  making  great  professions,  he  had,  for  many  years, 
taken  no  notice  of  me  ;  but  when  my  Dictionary  was  coming  out,  hts 
ell  a  scribbling  in  '  The  World'  about  it.  Upon  which,  I  wrote  him 
a  letter  expressed  in  civil  terms,  but  such  as  might  show  him  that 
I  did  not  mind  what  he  said  or  wrote,  and  that  I  had  done  with  Kim  " 


'*^}'*'-  ■^-  TEE    mCTlOXARY.       .  215 

This  is  that  celebrated  letter  of  which  so  much  has  been  said,  and 
about  wliich  curiosity  has  been  so  long  excited,  without  being  gra- 
tified. I  for  many  years  solicited  Johnson  to  favour  me  with  u  copy 
of  it,  that  so  excellent  a  composition  might  not  be  lost  to  posterity. 
He  delayed  from  time  to  time  to  give  it  me  ;'  till  at  last,  in  1781, 
when  we  were  on  a  visit  at  Mr.  Billy's,  at  Southhill,  in  Bedfordshire, 
he  was  pleased  to  dictate  it  to  me  from  memory.  He  afterwards 
found  among  his  papers  a  copy  of  it,  which  he  had  dictated  to  Mr. 
Baretti,  with  its  title  and  corrections,  in  his  own  hand-writing. 
This  he  gave  to  Mr.  Langton  ;  adding,  that  if  it  were  to  come  into 
print,  he  wished  it  to  be  from  that  copy.  By  Mr.  Langton's  kind- 
ness, I  am  enabled  to  enrich  my  work  with  a  perfect  transcript  of 
what  the  woi'ld  has  so  eagerly  desired  to  see. 

Lettkr  25.  TO  THE  EARL  OF  CHESTERFIELD. 

February  7, 1755. 

"  My  Lord, — I  have  been  lately  informed,  by  the  proprietor  of  '  The  "World,' 
that  two  papers,  in  which  my  Dictionary  is  recommended  to  the  public, 
were  written  by  your  lordship.  To  be  so  distinguished,  is  an  honour,  which, 
being  very  little  accustomed  to  favours  from  the  great,  I  know  not  well  how  to 
receive,  or  in  what  terms  to  acknowledge. 

"  When,  upon  some  slight  encouragement,  I  first  visited  your  lordship,  I  was 
overpowered,  like  the  rest  of  mankind,  by  the  enchantment  of  your  addresg, 
and  could  not  forbear  to  wish  that  I  might  boast  myself  Le  vainqneur  da  vain- 
queur  de  la  terre — that  I  might  obtain  that  regard  for  which  I  saw  the  world 
contending ;  but  I  found  my  attendance  so  little  encouraged,  that  neither 
pride  nor  modesty  would  suffer  me  to  continue  it.''     When  I  had  once  ad-' 

'  Dr.  Johnson  appeared  to  have  a  remarkable  delicacy  with  respect  to  the  circulation  of 
this  letter  ;  for  Dr.  Douglas,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  informs  me,  that  having  many  years  ago 
pressed  him  to  be  allowed  to  read  it  to  the  second  Lord  Hardwicke,  who  was  very  desirous  to 
hear  it  (promising  at  the  same  time  that  no  copy  of  it  should  be  taken),  Johnson  seemed  much 
pleased  that  it  had  attracted  the  attention  of  a  nobleman  of  such  a  respectable  character; 
but  after  pausing  some  time,  declined  to  comply  with  the  request,  saying,  with  a  smile,  "  No, 
Sir ;  I  have  hurt  the  dog  too  much  already  ;"  or  words  to  that  purpose. — Boswell. 

2  Johnson's  personal  manners  and  habits,  even  at  a  later  and  more  polished  period  of  his 
life,  would  probably  not  have  been  much  to  Lord  Chesterfield's  taste ;  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, that  Johnson's  introduction  to  Lord  Chesterfield  did  not  take  place  till  his  lordship  was 
fAsl  Jiffy,  and  he  was  soon  after  attacked  bj'  a  disease  which  estranged  him  from  society. 
The  neglect  lasted,  it  is  charged,  from  174S  to  1755  :  his  private  letters  to  his  most  intimj.to 
friends  will  prove  that  during  that  period  Lord  Chesterfield  may  be  excused  for  not  cultivating 
Johnson's  society : — e.  y.  20th  Jan.  1749.  "  My  old  disorder  in  my  head  hindered  me  from 
acknowledging  your  former  letters."  SOth  June,  1752.  "lam  here  in  my  hermitage,  ver> 
oeaf,  and  consequently  alone  ;  but  I  am  les^  dejected  than  most  people  in  my  situotiou 


216  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^'^^ 

dressed  your  lordship  in  puolic,  I  had  exhausted  all  the  art  of  pleasing  whicK 
a  retired  and  uncourtly  scholar  can  possess.  I  had  done  all  that  I  could ;  and 
no  man  is  well  pleased  to  have  his  all  neglected,  be  it  ever  so  little. 

"  Seven  years,  m}  lord,  have  now  past,  since  I  waited  in  your  outward 
rooms,  or  was  repulsed  from  your  door ;  during  which  time  I  have  been  push- 
ing on  my  work  through  difficulties,  of  which  it  is  useless  to  complain,  and 
have  brought  it,  at  last,  to  the  verge  of  pubhcation,  without  one  act  of  assist- 
ance,* one  word  of  encouragement,  or  one  smile  of  favour.  Such  treatment  I 
did  not  expect,  for  I  never  had  a  patron  before. 

"  The  shepherd  in  Virgil  grew  at  least  acquainted  with  Love,  and  found  him 
a  native  of  the  rocks. 

"  Is  not  a  patron,  my  lord,  one  who  looks  with  unconcern  on  a  man 
struggling  for  life  in  the  water,  and,  when  he  has  reached  ground,  encumber.s 
him  with  help  ?  The  notice  which  you  have  been  pleased  to  take  of  my 
labours,  had  it  been  early,  had  been  kind  ;  but  it  has  been  delayed  till  I  am 
indifferent,  and  cannot  enjoy  it;  till  I  am  solitary,  and  cannot  impart  it ;  '  till 

would  be."  10th  Oct.  1753.  "  1  belong  7io  more  to  social  life.''''  16th  Nov.  175-3.  "  I  know 
my  place,  and  form  my  plan  accordingly,  for  /  strike  society  out  of  it  "  10th  July,  175.5. 
"  My  deafness  is  extremely  increased,  and  daily  increasing,  and  cuts  me  wholly  off  from  th<) 
society  of  others,  and  my  other  complaints  deny  me  the  society  of  myself,"  &c.,  &c.  John- 
Bon,  perhaps,  knew  nothing  of  all  this,  and  imagined  that  Lord  Chesterfield  declined  his 
acquaintance  on  some  opinion  derogatory  to  his  personal  pretensions.  Mr.  Tyers,  however, 
suggests  a  more  precise  and  probahle  ground  for  Johnson's  animosity  than  Boswell  gives,  by 
iiintlng  that  Johnson  expected  some  pecuniary  assistance  from  Lord  Chesterfield.  He  Bays, 
"It  does  not  appear  that  Lord  Chesterfield  showed  any  siibstmitial  proofs  of  approbation  to 
our  philologer.  A  small  present  Johnson  would  have  disdained,  and  he  was  not  of  a  temper 
to  put  up  with  the  affront  of  a  ili^appointment.  lie  revenged  himself  in  a  letter  to  his  lord- 
ship, written  with  great  acrimony.  Lord  Chesterfield,  indeed,  commends  and  recommends 
Mr.  Johnson's  Dictionary  in  two  or  three  numbers  of  '  The  World ;'  but  '  not  icords  alone 
please  him.'  " — Biog.  Sketch. — C. 

1  The  following  note  is  subjoined  by  Mr.  Langton  : — "  Dr.  Johnson,  when  he  gave  me  this 
'copy  of  his  letter,  desired  that  I  would  anne.x  to  it  his  information  to  me,  that  whereas  it  is 
said  in  the  letter  that  'no  assistance  has  been  received,'  he  did  once  receive  from  Lord  Ches- 
terfield the  sum  of  ten  pounds ;  but  as  that  was  so  inconsiderable  a  sum,  he  thought  the  men- 
tion of  it  could  not  properly  find  a  place  in  a  letter  of  the  kind  that  this  was." — B. 

This  surely  is  an  unsatisfactory  e.xcuse  ;  for  the  sum,  though  now  so  inconsiderable,  was  one 
which,  many  years  before,  Johnson  tells  us,  that  Paul  'Whitehead,  then  a  fashionable  poet, 
received  for  a  new  work  :  it  was  as  much  as  Johnson  himself  had  received  for  the  copyright 
of  his  best  poetical  production  ;  and  when  Dr.  Madden,  some  years  after,  gave  liim  the  same 
sum  for  revising  a  work  of  his,  Johnson  said  that  the  Doctor  "  was  very  generous  ;  for  ten 
guineas  was  to  me,  at  that  time,  a  great  sum, " — (see  po.ft,  1756).  When  Johnson  alleged 
against  Lord  Chesterfield  such  a  trifle  as  the  waiting  in  his  anteroom  he  ought  not  to  have 
omitted  a  pecuniary  obligation,  however  inconsiderable. — C. 

s  In  ihis  passage  Dr.  Johnson  evidently  alludes  to  the  loss  of  his  wife.  We  find  the  sam« 
tender  recollection  recurring  to  his  mind  upon  innumerable  occasions ;  and,  perhaps,  no  man 
ever  more  forcibly  felt  the  truth  of  the  sentiment  so  elegantly  expressed  by  my  friend  Mi, 
Malone,  in  his  prologue  to  Mr.  Jephson's  tragedy  of  "  Julia  :" 

"Vain — wealth,  and  fame,  and  fortune's  fostering  care, 
If  no  fond  breast  the  splendid  blessings  share ; 


■^TAT.  45.  THE    DICTIONARY.  21T 

I  am  known,  and  do  not  want  it.  I  hope  it  is  no  very  cynical  asperity  not  to 
confe.'s  obligations  where  no  benefit  has  been  received,  or  to  be  unwilling  that 
the  public  should  consider  me  as  owing  that  to  a  patron,  which  Providence  has 
enabled  me  to  do  for  myself. 

"  Having  carried  on  my  work  thus  far  with  so  little  obligation  to  any 
favourer  of  learning,  I  shall  not  be  disappointed  though  I  should  conclude  it, 
if  less  be  possible,  with  less  ;  for  I  have  been  long  wakened  from  that  dream 
of  hope,  in  which  I  once  boasted  myself  with  so  much  exultation. 

"  My  Lord, 
■  "  Your  lordship's  most  humble,  most  obedient  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."  * 

"  While  this  was  the  talk  of  the  town  (says  Dr.  Adams  in  a  let- 
ter to  me),  I  happened  to  visit  Dr.  Warburton,  who,  finding  thai  I 
was  acquainted  with  Johnson,  desired  me  earnestly  to  carry  his 
compliments  to  him,  and  to  tell  him,  that  he  honoured  him  for  his 
manly  behaviour  in  rejecting  these  condescensions  of  Lord  Chester- 
field, and  for  resenting  the  treatment  he  had  received  from  him  with 
a  proper  spirit.  Johnsoii  was  visibly  pleased  with  this  compliment, 
for  he  had  always  a  high  opinion  of  Warburton."  ^  Indeed,  the 
force  of  mind  which  appeared  in  this  letter,  was  congenial  with 
that  which  Warburton  himself  amply  possessed. 

There  is  a  curious  minute  circumstance  which  struck  me.  in  com- 
paring the  various  editions  of  Johnson's  Imitations  of  Juvenal. 
In  the  tenth  Satire  one  of  the  couplets  upon  the  Canity  of  wishes 
even  for  literary  distinction  stood  thus  : — 

"  Yet  think  what  ills  the-scholar's  Hfe  assail, 
Toil,  envy,  want,  the  garret^  and  the  jail." 

And,  each  day's  bustling  pageantry  once  past, 
There,  only  there,  our  bliss  is  found  at  last." — B. 

'  Upon  comparing  this  copy  with  that  which  Dr.  Johnson  dictated  to  me  from  recollection, 
the  Tariations  are  found  to  be  so  slight,  that  this  must  be  added  to  the  many  other  proofs 
which  he  gave  of  the  wonderful  extent  and  accuracy  of  his  memory.  To  gratify  the  curioua 
In  composition,  I  have  deposited  both  the  copies  in  the  British  Museum  — B. 

'  Soon  after  Edwards's  "  Canons  of  Criticism  "  came  out,  Johnson  was  dining  at  Tonson  the 
bookseller's,  with  Hayman  the  painter,  and  some  more  company.  Hayman  related  to  Sii 
Joshua  Reynolds,  that  the  conversation  having  turned  upon  Edwards's  book,  the  gentlemen 
praised  it  much,  and  Johnson  allowed  its  merit.  But  when  they  went  farther,  and  appeared 
to  put  that  author  upon  a  level  with  Warburton,  "  Nay  (said  Johnson),  he  has  given  him  some 
Bmart  hits,  to  be  sure;  but  there  is  no  proportion  between  the  two  men  ;  they  must  not  be 
uamed  together.  A  fly,  sir,  may  sting  a  stately  horse  and  make  him  wince  ;  but  one  is  bu»  an 
i.isect,  and  the  other  is  a  horse  still." — B. 

VOL.    I.  10 


218  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


1T34. 


But  after  experiencing  the  uneasiness  which  Lord  Chesterfield's  fal- 
lacious patronage  made  him  feel,  he  dismissed  the  word  garret  from 
the  sad  group,  and  in  all  the  subsequent  editions  the  line  stands 

"  Toil   envy,  want,  the  Patron,  and  the  jail." 

That  Lord  Chesterfield  must  have  been  mortified  by  the  lofty  con- 
tempt, and  polite,  yet  keen,  satire  with  which  Johnson  exhibited 
him  to  himself  in  this  letter,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt.  He,  how- 
ever, with  that  glossy  duplicity  which  was  his  constant  study, 
affected  to  be  quite  unconcerned.  Dr.  Adams  mentioned  to  Mr. 
Robert  Dodsley,  that  he  was  sorry  Johnson  had  written  his  letter 
to  Lord  Chesterfield.  Dodsley,  with  the  true  feelings  of  trade,  said 
"  he  was  very  sorry  too;  for  that  he  had  a  property  in  the  Diction- 
ary, to  which  his  lordship's  patronage  might  have  been  of  conse- 
quence." He  then  told  Dr.  Adams,  that  Lord  Chesterfield  had 
shown  him  the  letter.  "  I  should  have  imagined  (replied  Dr. 
Adams)  that  Lord  Chesterfield  would  have  concealed  it."  "  Poh ! 
said  Dodsley)  do  you  think  a  letter  from  Johnson  could  hurt  Lord  . 
Chesterfield  ?  Not  at  all,  sir.  It  lay  upon  his  table,  where  any 
body  might  see  it.  He  read  it  to  me;  said,  '  This  man  has  great 
powers,'  pointed  out  the  severest  passages,  and  observed  how  well 
they  were  expressed."  This  air  of  indifference,  which  imposed  upon 
the  worthy  Dodsley,  was  certainly  nothing  but  a  specimen  of  that 
dissimulation  which  Lord  Chesterfield  inculcated  as  one  of  the  most 
essential  lessons  for  the  conduct  of  life.^  His  lordship  endeavoured 
to  justify  himself  to  Dodsley  from  the  charges  brought  against  him 
by  Johnson  ;  but  we  may  judge  of  the  flirasiness  of  his  defence, 
from  his  having  excused  his  neglect  of  Johnson,  by  saying,  that  "  he 
had  heard  he  had  changed  his  lodgings,  and  did  not  know  where 
he  lived;"  as  if  there  could  have  been  the  smallest  difficulty  to  inform 
himself  of  that  circumstance,  by  inquiring  in  the  literary  circle  with 

'  Why?  If,  as  may  have  been  the  case,  Lord  Chesterfield  felt  that  Johnson  was  unjust 
towards  him,  he  would  not  have  been  mortified^/Z  n^y  a  que  la  verite  qui  ilesse.  By  Mr. 
Boswell's  own  confession,  it  appears  that  Johnson  did  not  give  copies  of  this  letter ;  that  for 
many  years  Boswell  had  in  vain  solicited  him  to  do  so,  and' that  he,  after  the  lapse  of  twenty 
years,  did  so  reluctantly.  AVith  all  these  admissions,  how  can  Mr.  Boswell  attribute  to  any 
thing  but  conscious  rectitude  Lord  Chesterfield's  exposure  of  a  letter  which  the  author  was  so 
willing  to  bury  in  oblivion  ?  -  0 


^'^-^I'-^S.  LORD    CHESTERFIELD.  219 

which  his  lordship  was  well  acquainted,  and  was,  indeed,  himself 
one  of  its  ornaments. 

Dr.  Adams  expostulated  with  Johnson,  and  suggested,  that  his 
not  being  admitted  when  he  called  on  him,  was  probably  not  to  be 
imputed  to  Lord  Chesterfield;  for  his  lordship  had  declared  to  Dods- 
ley,  that  "  he  would  have  turned  off  the  best  servant  he  ever  had, 
if  he  had  known  that  he  denied  him  to  a  man  who  would  have  been 
always  more  than  welcome;"  and  in  confirmation  of  this,  he  insisted 
on  Lord  Chesterfield's  general  affability  and  easiness  of  access,, 
especially  to  literary  men.  "  Sir,  (said  Johnson)  that  is  not  Lord 
Chesterfield  ;  he  is  the  proudest  man  this  day  existing."  "  No, 
(said  Dr.  Adams)  there  is  one  person,  at  least,  as  proud  ;  I  think, 
by  your  own  account,  you  are  the  prouder  man  of  the  two."  "  But 
mine,  (replied  Johnson  instantly;  was  defensive  pride."  This,  as 
Dr.  Adams  well  observed,  was  one  of  those  happy  turns  '  for  which 
he  was  so  remarkably  ready. 

Johnson  having  now  explicitly  avowed  his  opinion  of  Lord  Ches- 
terfield, did  not  refrain  from  expressing  himself  concerning  that 
nobleman  with  pointed  freedom  :  "  This  man,  (said  he)  I  thought 
had  been  a  lord  among  wits  :  but  I  find  he  is  only  a  wit  among 
lords  !"  And  when  his  Letters  to  his  natural  son  were  published,  he 
observed,  that  "  they  teach  the  morals  of  a  whore,  and  the  manners 
of  a  dancing-master." " 

'  This,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  affair,  seems  discoloured  by  prejudice.  Lord  Chesterfield 
made  no  attack  on  Johnson,  who  certainly  acted  on  the  offensive,  and  not  the  defensive. — C. 

^  That  collection  of  Letters  cannot  be  vindicated  from  the  serious  charge  of  encouraging,  in 
some  passages,  one  of  the  vices  most  destructive  to  the  good  order  and  comfort  of  society, 
which  his  lordship  represents  as  mere  fashionable  gallantry  ;  and,  in  others,  of  inculcatang  the 
base  practice  of  dissimulation,  and  recommending,  with  disproportionate  anxiety,  a  perpetual 
attention  to  external  elegance  of  manners.  But  it  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  allowed,  that 
they  contain  many  good  precepts  of  conduct,  and  much  genuine  information  upon  life  and 
manners,  very  happily  expressed  ;  and  that  there  was  considerable  merit  in  paying  so  much 
attention  to  the  improvement  of  one  who  was  dependent  upon  his  lordship's  protection  :  it  has, 
probably,  been  exceeded  in  no  instance  by  the  most  exemplary  parent :  and  though  I  can  by 
no  means  approve  of  confounding  the  distinction  between  lawful  and  illicit  offspring,  which 
is,  in  effect,  insulting  the  civil  establishment  of  our  country,  to  look  no  higher;  I  cannot  help 
thinking  it  laudable  to  be  kindly  attentive  to  those,  of  whose  existence  we  have,  in  any  way 
been  the  cause.  Mr.  Stanhope's  character  has  been  unjustly  represented  as  diametrically 
opposite  to  what  Lord  Chesterfield  wished  him  to  be.  He  has  been  called  dull,  gross,  and  awk 
ward  :  but  I  knew  him  at  Dresde.,  when  he  was  envoy  to  that  court ;  and  though  he  could  not 
boast  otihe  graces,  he  was,  in  truth,  a  sensible,  civil,  well-behaved  man. — B. 

Cord  Chesterfield  died  in  1TT3.  The  "  Letters  "  were  published  the  year  following,  by  hi« 
•jn'g  widow ;  but  the  author  appears  to  have  given  no  authority  for  such  a  step. 


220  LIFE    OP    JOHNSON  *  ^^''*- 

The  character  of  a  "  respectable  Hottentot,"  iu  Lord  Chester- 
field's Letters,  has  been  generally  understood  to  be  meant  for  John- 
son, and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  was.  But  I  remember  when  the 
Literary  Property  of  those  letters  was  contested  in  the  court  of  ses- 
sion in  Scotland,  and  Mr.  Henry  Duudas,'  one  of  the  counsel  for  the 
proprietors,  read  this  character  as  an  exhibition  of  Johnson,  Sir 
David  Dalrymple,  Lord  Hailes,  one  of  the  judges,  maintained,  with 
some  warmth,  that  it  was  not  intended  as  a  portrait  of  Johnson,  but 
of  a  late  noble  lord  distioguished  for  abstruse  science.  I  have  heard 
Johnson  himself  talk  of  the  character,  and  say  that  it  was  meant  for 
George  Lord  Lyttelton,  in  which  I  could  by  no  means  agree  ;  for 
his  Lordship  had  nothing  of  that  violence  which  is  a  conspicuous 
feature  in  the  composition.  Finding  that  my  illustrious  friend  could 
bear  to  have  it  supposed  that  it  might  be  meant  for  him,  I  said, 
laughingly,  that  there  was  one  trait  which  unquestionably  did  not 
belong  to  him;  "he.  throws  his  meat  anywhere  but  down  his 
throat."  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  Lord  Chesterfield  never  saw  me  eat  in 
his  life." " 

On  the  6th  of  March  came  out  Lord  Bolingbroke's  works,  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  David  Mallet.  The  wild  and  pernicious  ravings  under 
the  name  of  "  Philosophy,"  which  were  thus  ushered  into  the  world, 
gave  great  offence  to  all  well-principled  men.  Johnson,  hearing  of 
their  tendency,  which  nobody  disputed,  was  roused  with  a  just  in- 
dignation, and  pronounced  this  memorable  sentence  upon  the  noble 
author  and  his  editor  :  "  Sir,  he  was  a  scoundrel,  and  a  coward  :  a 
scoundrel  for  charging  a  blunderbuss  against  religion  and  morality  ; 
a  coward,  because  he  had  no  resolution  to  fire  it  off  himself,  but  left 
half  a  crown  to  a  beggarly  Scotchman,  to  draw  the  trigger  after  his 
death  !"  Garrick,  who  I  can  attest  from  my  own  knowledge,  had 
his  mind  seasoned  with  pious  reverence,  and  sincerely  disapproved 
of  the  infidel  writings  of  several,  whom  in  the  course  of  his  almost 
universal  gay  intercourse  with  men  of  eminence  he  treated  with 
external  civility,  distinguished  himself  upon  this  occasion.     Mr.  Pel- 


>    Afterwards  Viscount  Melville.     He  died  in  1811. 

'  Lord  Chesterfield's  picture,  if  meant  for  Johnson,  was  not  overcharged  ;  for  what  betweec 
his  blindness,  his  nervousness,  and  his  eagerness,  all  his  frisnds  describe  his  mode  of  eating  t< 
have  been  sometliing  worse  than  awkward. — C. 


^^"^  ^-  VISIT    TO    OXFORD.  221 

ham  having  died  on  the  very  day  ou  which  Lord  Bolingbroke's  works 
came  out,  he  wrote  an  elegaut  Ode  on  his  death,  beginning, 

"Let  others  bail  the  rising  sun, 
I  bow  to  that  whose  course  is  run  •" 

in  which  is  the  following  stanza  : 

"The  same  sad  morn,  to  Church  and  State 
(So  for  our  sins  'twas  fix'd  by  fate) 

A  double  stroke  was  given  ; 
Black  as  the  whirlwinds  of  the  North, 
St.  John's  fell  genius  issued  forth, 

And  Pelham's  fled  to  heaven." 

Johnson  this  year  found  an  interval  of  leisure  to  make  an  excur 
Bion  to  Oxford,  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  the  libraries  there.  Oi 
this,  and  of  many  interesting  circumstances  concerning  him,  during 
a  part  of  his  life  when  he  conversed  but  little  with  the  world,  I  am 
enabled  to  give  a  particular  account,  by  the  liberal  communications 
of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Thomas  Warton,  who  obligingly  furnished  me 
with  several  of  our  common  friend's  letters,  which  he  illustrated  with 
notes.     These  I  shall  insert  in  their  proper  places. 

LitTTKR  26.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"  [London]  July  16, 1T54. 
"  Sir  : — It  is  but  an  ill  return  for  the  book  with  which  you  were  pleased 
to  favour  me,'  to  have  delayed  my  thanks  for  it  till  now.  I  am  too  apt  to  be 
negligent ;  but  I  can  never  deliberately  show  my  disrespect  to  a  man  of  your 
character  :  and  I  now  pay  you  a  very  honest  acknowledgment,  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  literature  of  our  native  country.  You  have  shown  to  all,  who 
shall  hereafter  attempt  the  study  of  our  ancient  authors,  the  way  to  success ;  by 
directing  them  to  the  perusal  of  the  books  which  those  authors  had  read.  Of 
this  method,  Hughes,"  and  men  much  greater  than  Hughes,  seem  never  to 
have  thought.     The  reason  why  the  authors,  which  are  yet  read,  of  the  six- 

>  Observations  on  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  the  first  edition  of  which  was  now  published.— 
Warto5. 

2  John  Hughes,  the  poet,  was  born  at  Marlborough  in  1677.  In  1715,  he  published  an  edi- 
tion of  Spenser,  "  a  work,"  says  Johnson,  "  for  which  he  was  well  qualified,  as  a  judge  of  the 
beauties  of  writing,  but  perhaps  wanted  an  antiquary's  knowledge  of  the  obsolete  words." 
His  tragedy  of  the  "  Siege  of  Damascus  "  was  first  represented  February  17, 1720  ;  and  on  th« 
»ame  day  he  died.  Pope  describes  him  as  "  a  good  humble-spirited  man,  a  great  admirer  of 
Addison,  and  but  a  poor  writer,  except  his  play  ;  that  is  very  well." 


322  LIFE    OP   JOHNSON.  1^54. 

lecnth  century,  are  so  little  understood,  is,  that  tbey  are  read  alone ;  and  no 
help  is  borrowed  from  those  who  lived  with  them,  or  before  them.  Some  part 
of  this  ignorance  I  hope  to  remove  by  my  book,  [the  Dictionary,]  which  now 
draws  towards  its  end  ;  but  which  I  cannot  finish  to  my  mind,  without  visiting 
the  libraries  of  Oxford,  which  I  therefore  hope  to  see  in  a  fortnight.  I  _know 
not  how  long  I  shall  stay,  or  where  I  shall  lodge  :  but  shall  be  sure  to  look  for  . 
you  at  my  arrival,  and  we  shall  easily  settle  the  rest.  I  am,  dear  sir,  your 
most  obedient,  &c., 

"Sam.  Johnson." 

Of  bis  conversation  while  at  Oxford  at  this  time,  Mr.  Warton 
preserved  and  communicated  to  me  the  following  memorial,  which, 
though  not  written  with  all  the  care  and  attention  which  that 
learned  and  elegant  writer  bestowed  on  those  compositions  which  he 
intended  for  the  public  eye,  is  so  happily  expressed  in  an  easy  style, 
that  I  should  injure  it  by  any  alteration. 

"  When  Johnson  came  to  Oxford  in  1*754,  the  long  vacation  was  beginning, 
and  most  people  were  leaving  the  place.  This  was  the  first  time  of  his  being 
there,  after  quitting  the  University.  The  next  morning  after  his  arrival,  he 
wished  to  see  his  old  college,  Pembroke.  I  went  with  him.  He  was  highly 
pleased  to  find  all  the  college -servants  which  he  had  left  there  still  remaining, 
particularly  a  very  old  butler  ;  and  expressed  great  satisfiiction  at  being  recog- 
nised by  them,  and  conversed  with  them  familiarly.  He  waited  on  the  mas- 
ter. Dr.  Radcliffe,  who  received  him  very  coldly.  Johnson  at  least  expected 
that  the  master  would  order  a  copy  of  his  Dictionary,  now  near  publication  ; 
but  the  master  did  not  choose  to  talk  on  the  subject,  never  asked  Johnson  to 
dine,  nor  even  to  visit  him,  while  he  staid  at  Oxford.  After  wo  had  left  the 
lodgings,  Johnson  said  to  me,  '  There  lives  a  man,  who  lives  by  the  revenues 
of  literature,  and  will  not  move  a  finger  to  support  it.*  If  I  come  to  live  at 
Oxford,  I  shall  take  up  my  abode  at  Trinity.'  We  then  called  on  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Meeke,  one  of  the  fellows,  and  of  Johnson's  standing.  Here  was  a  most 
cordial  greeting   on  both  sides.     On  leaving  him,  Johnson  said,    '  I  used  to 

1  There  is  some  excuse  for  Dr.  Ratcliff  (so  he  spelt  his  name)  not  ordering  a  copy  of  the 
book,  for  this  visit  occurred  seven  or  eight  months  before  the  Dictionary  was  publislied.  His 
personal  ne-gXeci  of  Johnson  is  less  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  unless  it  be  by  the  fact,  that  be 
was  a  great  invalid  ;  but  the  imputation  of  his  living  by  the  revenues  of  literature,  and  doing 
nothing  for  it,  cannot,  as  Dr.  Hall  informs  me,  be  justly  made  against  Dr.  Ratcliff,  for  he 
bequeathed  to  his  college  £1000  4  per  cents,  for  the  establishment  of  an  exhibition  for  the  son 
of  a  Gloucestershire  clergyman— £1000  for  the  improvement  of  the  college  buildings— £100 
worth  of  books — and  £100  for  contingent  expenses.  The  residue  of  his  property  (except  £600 
left  for  the  repair  of  the  prebendal  house  at  Gloucestershire)  he  left  to  the  old  butler  men- 
tioned in  the  text,  who  had  long  been  his  servant :  a  bequest  which  Johnson  himself  imitated 
In  favour  of  his  own  servant.  Barber. — 0. 


^T^-r-'i^  VISIT   TO    OXFORD.  223 

think  Meeke  had  excellent  parts,  when  we  were  boys  together  at  the  college  : 
Dut,  alas! 

'  Lost  in  a  convent's  solitary  gloom  !' 

"  '  I  remember,  at  the  classical  lecture  in  the  Hall,  I  could  ncit  boar  Mcoke's 
superiority,  and  I  tried  to  sit  as  far  from  him  as  I  could,  that  I  might  not  hear 
aim  construe.' 

"  As  we  were  leaving  the  college,  he  said,  '  Here  I  translated  Pope's  Mes- 
siah.    Which  do  you  think  is  the  best  line  in  it? — My  own  favourite  is, 

'  Vallis  aromaticas  fundit  Saronica  nuhes.'' 

I  told  him,  I  thought  it  a  very  sonorous  hexameter.  I  did  not  tell  him,  it  was 
not  in  the  Virgilian  style.  He  much  regretted  that  his_^?'si  tutor  was  dead; 
for  whom  he  seemed  to  retain  the  greatest  regard.  He  said,  '  I  once  had  been 
a  whole  morning  sliding  in  Christ-Church  meadows,  and  missed  his  lecture  in 
logic.  After  dinner  he  sent  for  me  to  his  room.  I  expected  a  sharp  rebuke 
for  my  idleness,  and  went  with  a  beating  heart.'  When  we  were  seated,  he 
told  me  he  had  sent  for  me  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  him,  and  to  tell  me, 
he  was  not  angry  with  me  for  missing  his  lecture.  This  was,  in  fact,  a  most 
severe  reprimand.  Some  more  of  the  boys  were  then  sent  for,  and  we  spent  a 
very  pleasant  afternoon.'  Besides  Mr.  Meeke,  there  was  only  one  other  fellow 
of  Pembroke  now  resident :  from  both  of  whom  Johnson  received  the  greatest 
civilities  during  this  visit,  and  they  pressed  him  very  much  to  have  a  room  in 
the  college. 

"  In  the  course  of  this  visit  Johnson  and  I  walked  three  or  four  times  to 
Ellsfield,  a  village  beautifully  situated  about  three  miles  from  O.xford,  to  see 
Mr.  [Francis]  Wise,  Radclivian  librarian,  with  whom  Johnson  was  much 
pleased.  At  this  place,  Mr.  Wise  had  fitted  up  a  house  and  gardens,  in  a 
Ringular  manner,  but  with  great  taste.  Here  was  an  excellent  library,  par- 
ticularly a  valuable  collection  of  books  in  Northern  literature,  with  which 
Johnson  was  often  very  busy.  One  day  Mr.  Wise  read  to  us  a  dissertation 
which  he  was  preparing  for  the  press,  intitled  "  A  History  and  Chronology  of 
the  fabulous  Ages."  Some  old  divinities  of  Thrace,  related  to  the  Titans,  and 
called  the  Cabiri,  made  a  very  important  part  of  the  theory  of  this  piece ;  and 
in  conversation  afterwards,  Mr.  Wise  talked  much  of  his  Cabiri.  As  we 
returned  to  Oxford  in  the  evening,  I  outwalked  Johnson,  and  he  cried  out 
Suffmiiina,  a  Latin  word  which  came  from  his  mouth  with  peculiar  grace,  and 

1  This  was  Johnson's  earliest  account  of  this  little  event,  and  probably  the  most  accurate; 
jiany  years  after  this  he  old  the  story  to  Boswell  and  Mrs.  Piozzi,  and  made  a  parade  of  his 
having  waited  on  his  tutor,  not  with  a  "heating  heart"  but  with  '■^nonchalance  and  even 
insolence."  It  would  seem  as  if  Johnson  had  been  induced,  by  the  too  obsequious  deference 
of  Ills  later  admirers,  to  assign  to  his  character  in  youth  a  little  more  of  sturfly  dig- 
liiiy  than,  when  his  recollection  was  fresher  and  his  ear  unspoiled  by  flattery,  he  assumed  '.c 
Mi.  "Wivrton.— C. 


224  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  1^^ 

was  as  much  as  to  say,  Ptit  on  your  drag-chain.  Before  we  got  home,  I  again 
walked  too  fust  for  him ;  and  he  now  cried  out,  '  Why,  you  walk  as  if  you 
were  pursued  by  all  the  Cabiii  in  a  body.'  In  an  evening  we  frequently  took 
long  walks  from  Oxford  into  the  country,  returning  to  supper.  Once,  in  our 
way  home,  we  viewed  the  ruins  of  the  abbeys  of  Oseney  and  Rewley,  near 
Oxford.  After  at  least  half  an  hour's  silence,  Johnson  said,  '  I  viewed  them 
with  indignation !'  We  had  then  a  long  conversation  on  Gothic  buildings; 
and  in  talking  of  the  form  of  old  halls,  he  said,  '  In  these  halls,  the  fire-place 
was  anciently  always  in  the  middle  of  fce  room,  till  the  Whigs  removed  it  on  one 
side.'  About  this  time  there  had  been  an  execution  of  two  or  three  criminals 
at  Oxford  on  a  Monday.  Soon  afterwards,  one  day  at  dinner,  I  was  saying 
that  Mr.  Swinton,*  the  chaplain  of  the  gaol,  and  also  a  frequent  preacher  before 
the  university,  a  learned  man,  but  often  thoughtless  and  absent,  preached  the 
condemnation-sermon  on  repentance,  before  the  convicts,  on  the  preceding 
day,  Sunday ;  and  that  in  the  close  he  told  his  audience,  that  he  should  give 
them  the  remainder  of  what  he  had  to  say  on  the  subject,  the  next  Lord's  Day. 
Upon  which,  one  of  our  company,  a  doctor  of  divinity,  and  a  plain  matter-of- 
fact  man,  by  way  of  offering  an  apology  for  Mr.  Swinton,  gravely  remarked, 
that  he  had  probably  preached  the  same  sermon  before  the  university :  '  Yes, 
Sir  (says  Johnson),  but  the  university  were  not  to  be  hanged  the  next 
morning.' 

"  I  forgot  to  observe  before,  that  when  he  left  Mr.  Meeke  (as  I  have  told 
above),  he  added,  '  About  the  same  time  of  life,  Meeke  was  left  behind  at 
Oxford  to  feed  on  a  fellowship,  and  I  went  to  London,  to  get  my  living :  now. 
Sir,  see  the  diflerence  of  our  literary  characters!"  " 

The  followiug  letter  was  written  by  Dr.  Johnson  to  Mr.  Cham- 
bers, of  Lhicohi  College,  afterwards  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  one  of  the 
judges  in  India  :' 

-  The  Rev.  John  Swinton,  B.  D.  of  Ch.  Ch.,  one  of  the  chief  writers  of  the  Universal  His- 
tory, died  in  1777,  aged  79. 

^  Curia  avuens  morialia  corda.  Poverty  was  the  stimulus  which  made  Johnson  exert  a 
genius  naturally,  it  may  be  supposed,  more  vigorous  than  Meeke's,  and  he  was  now  beginning 
to  enjoy  the  fame,  of  which  so  many  painful  years  of  distress  and  penury  had  laid  the  foun- 
dation. Meeke  had  lived  an  easy  life  of  decent  competence ;  and  on  the  whole,  perhaps,  as 
little  envied  Johnson,  as  Johnson  him  :  the  goodness  and  justice  of  Providence  equalise,  to  a 
degree  not  always  visible  at  first  sight,  the  happiness  of  mankind — nee  'Dixit  male  qui  natus 
^norie/nsquefefellit. — C. 

'  Sir  Robert  Chambers  was  born  in  1737,  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  and  educated  at  the  same 
school  with  Lord  Stowell  and  his  brother  the  Earl  of  Eldon,  and  afterwards  (like  them)  a  mem- 
ber of  University  College.  It  was  by  visiting  Chambers,  when  a  fellow  of  University,  that 
Johnson  became  acquainted  with  Lord  Stowell  :  and  when  Chambers  went  to  India,  Lord 
Stowell,  as  he  expressed  it  to  me,  "  seemed  to  succeed  to  Ms  place  in  Johnson's  frieni 
rhip."— 0. 


*="''•  ^-  DEGREE    OF    M.  A.  225 

Lkhkr  27.  TO  MR.  CHAMBERS. 

"  [London,]  Nov.  21,  1754. 

"  Dear  Sir, — The  commission  which  I  delayed  to  trouble  you  with  at  your 
departure,  I  am  now  obHged  to  send  you  ;  and  beg  that  you  will  be  so  kind  as 
lo  carry  it  to  Mr.  Warton,  of  Trinity,  to  whom  I  should  have  written  Inime- 
liately,  but  that  I  know  not  if  he  be  yet  come  back  to  Oxford. 

"  In  the  catalogue  of  MSS.  of  Gr.  Brit.,  see  vol.  i.  page  18,  MSS  Bodl.  Mar- 
TRIUM  XV.  martyrwn  fsicb  Juliano,  auctore  Theophylacto. 

"  It  is  desired  that  Mr.  Warton  w  ill  inquire,  and  send  word,  what  will  be  the 
jost  of  transcribing  this  manuscript. 

"Vol.  ii.  p.  32,  Num.  1022.  58.  Coll.  Nov. —  Commentaria  in  Acta  Apostol. — 
Comment,  in  Septeia  Epistolas  Catkolicas. 

"  He  is  desired  to  tell  what  is  the  age  of  each  of  these  manuscripts ;  and 
what  it  will  cost  to  have  a  transcript  of  the  two  first  pages  of  each. 

"  If  Mr.  Warton  be  not  in  Oxford,  you  may  try  if  you  can  get  it  done  by 
anybody  else;  or  stay  till  he  comes,  according  to  your  own  convenience.  It  ie 
for  an  Italian  literato. 

"  The  answer  is  to  be  directed  to  his  Excellency  Mr.  Zon,  Venetian  Resi- 
dsnt,  Soho  Square.  v 

"  I  hope,  dear  Sir,  that  you  do  not  regret  the  change  of  London  for  Oxford. 
Mr.  Baretti  is  well,  and  Miss  Williams ;  and  we  shall  all  be  glad  to  hear  from 
you,  whenever  you  shall  be  so  kind  as  to  write  to,  Sir,  your  most  humble 
servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

The  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  which,  it  has  been  observed,  could 
not  be  obtained  for  liini  at  an  early  period  of  his  life,  was  now  con- 
sidered as  an  honour  of  considerable  importance,  in  order  to  grace 
the  title-page  of  his  Dictionary  ;  and  his  character  in  the  literary 
worldbeing  by  this  time  deservedly  high,  his  friends  thought  that,  if 
proper  exertions  were  made,  the  University  of  Oxford  would  pay 
him  the  compliment. 

Lktter  28.  TO  THE  REV.  T.  WARTON. 

"  [London,]  Not.  28, 1754. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  and  to  Mr.  Wise,  for  the  un 
common  care  which  you  have  taken  of  my  interest:  if  you  tan  accomplish 
your  kind  design,  I  shall  certainly  take  me  a  little  habitation  among  you. 

"  The  books  which  I  promised  to  Mr.  Wise  I  have  not  been  able  to  procure  ' 
but  I  shall  send  him  a  Finnick  Dictionary,  the  only  copy,  perhaps,  in  England, 
»vhich  was  presented  me  by  a  learned  Swede  :  but  I  keep  it  back,  that  it  may 
make  a  set  of  my  own  books  '  of  the  new  edition,  with  which  I  shall  accom> 
pany  it,  more  welcome.     You  will  assure  him  of  my  gratitude. 

'  The  Rambler.— C. 

10* 


lS^6  '  LtFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


1?&1. 


"Poor  dear  Collins!  ' — Would  a  letter  give  him  any  pleasure?  I  have  a 
jnind  to  write. 

"  I  am  glad  of  your  hindrance  in  your  Spenserian  design,*  yet  I  would  not 
have  it  delayed.  Three  hours  a  day  stolen  from  sleep  and  amusement  will 
produce  it.  Let  a  Servitour "  transcribe  the  quotations,  and  interleave  them 
with  references,  to  save  time.  This  will  shorten  the  work,  and  lessen  the 
fatigue. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  to  promoting  the  diploma?  I  would  not  be  wanting  to 
co-operate  with  your  kindness ;  of  which,  whatever  be  the  effect,  I  shall  oe, 
dear  Sir,  your  most  obli|;ed,  &c., 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  29.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"[London,]  Dec.  21,  1754. 

"  Dear  Sir, — T  am  extremely  sensible  of  the  fiivour  done  me,  both  by  Mr. 
Wise  and  yourself.  The  book*  cannot,  I  think,  be  printed  in  less  than  six 
•weeks,  nor  probably  so  soon  ;  and  I  will  keep  back  the  title-page  for  such  au 
insertion  as  you  seem  to  promise  me.  Be  pleased  to  let  me  know  what  money 
I  shall  send  you,  for  bearing  the  expense  of  the  affair ;  and  I  will  take  care 
that  you  may  have  it  ready  at  your  hand. 

*'  I  had  lately  the  favour  of  a  letter  from  your  brother,  with  some  account 
of  poor  Collins,  for  whom  I  am  much  concerned.  I  have  a  notion,  that  by 
very  great  temperance,  or  more  properly  abstinence,  he  may  yet  recover. 

"  There  is  an  old  Enghsh  and  Latin  book  of  poems  by  Barclay,  called  "  The 
Ship  of  Fools  ;"  at  the  end  of  which  are  a  number  of  Eglogues — so  he  writes 
it,  from  Egloga — which  are  probably  the  first  in  our  language.  If  you  cannot 
find  the  book,  I  will  get  Mr.  Dodsley  to  send  it  you. 

"  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  to  hear  from  you  again,  to  know  if  the  affair 
proceeds.  I  have  mentioned  it  to  none  of  my  friends,  for  fear  of  being  laughed 
at  for  my  disappointment. 

"  You  know  poor  Mr.  Dodsley  has  lost  his  wife  ;  I  believe  he  is  much 
affected     I  hope  he  will  not  suffer  so  much  as  I  yet  suffer  for  the  loss  of  mine. 

OljioL'  Ti  6'  01/J.ni ;  Qvr/ra  yap  TrenovOa/xsv.  ' 

I  have  ever  since  seemed  to  myself  broken  off  from  mankind  ;  a  kind   of  h»?li- 

1  Collins  (the  poet)  was  at  this  time  at  Oxford,  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Warton  ;  but  labouring 
under  the  most  deplorable  languor  of  body,  and  dejection  of  mind. — Wartok.  [Fie  died  at 
his  native  city,  Chichester,  in  1756.     See  Johnson's  Life  of  him.] 

^  Of  publishing  a  volume  of  observations  on  Spenser. — AVarton. 

'  Young  students  of  the  lowest  rank  are  so  called. — Warton. 

*   His  Dictionary. — Warton. 

s  This  verse  is  from  the  long  lost  Bellerophon,  a  tragedy  by  Euripides.  It  is  preserved  by 
Suidas. — Burnet.  The  meaning  is,  "Alas!  but  why  should  I  say  alas  f  wJ  have  only  3u/ 
fered  the  common  lot  of  mortality  !" — 0. 


^■^-^■'-  46  i^ETTERS   TO    WARTON,  221 

tary  wanderer  in  the  wild  of  life,  without  any  direction,  or  fixed  point  ofvifw, 
a  gloomy  gazer  on  the  world,  to  which  I  have  little  relation.  Yet  I  would 
endeavour,  by  the  help  of  you  and  your  brother,  to  supply  the  want  of  closer 
union  by  friendship ;  and  hope  to  have  long  the  pleasure  of  being,  dear  Sir, 
most  aS'ectionately  yours, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  30.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  Dec.  24,  1754. 

*'  Dear  Sir, — I  am  sa,t  down  to  answer  your  kind  letter,  though  I  know  not 
whether  I  shall  direct  it  so  as  that  it  may  reach  you  ;  the  miscarriage  of  it  will 
be  no  great  matter,  as  I  have  nothing  to  send  but  thanks,  of  which  I  owe  you 
many,  yet  if  a  few  should  be  lost,  I  shall  amply  find  them  in  my  own  mind ; 
and  professions  of  respect,  of  which  the  profession  will  easily  be  renewed 
while  the  respect  continues  ;  and  the  same  causes  which  first  produced  can 
hardly  fail  to  preserve  it.  Pray  let  me  know,  however,  whether  my  letter  finds 
its  way  to  you. 

Poor  dear  Collins! — Let  me  know  whether  you  think  it  would  give  him  plea- 
sure if  I  should  write  to  him.  I  have  often  been  near  his  state,  and  therefore 
have  it  in  great  commiseration. 

"  I  sincerely  wish  you  the  usual  pleasures  of  this  ^o,vou.o  season,  and  more 
than  the  usual  pleasures,  those  of  corteraplation  on  the  gre<it  event  which  this 
festival  commemorates.  I  am,  dear  Sir,  yom-  most  aflVctiouate  and  moet 
humble  servant,  "  Sa>»    Johnsok." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

1755—1758. 

<etitMon  receives  the  Degree  of  M.  A.  by  Diploma — Correspondence  with  Warton  and  the  an 
thorities  of  the  University  of  Oxford — Publication  of  the  Dictionary  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage— Remarkable  Definitions — Abridgment  of  the  Dictionary — The  Universal  Visiter— 
The  Literary  Magazine — Defence  of  Tea — Pulpit  Discourses— Proposals  for  an  Edition  of 
Shakspeare — Jonas  Hanway — Soame  Jenyns — Charles  Burney. 

In  1755  we  behold  him  to  great  advantage  ;  his  degree  of  Master 
of  Arts  conferred  upon  hira,  his  Dictionary  published,  his  aorrespoa- 
dence  animated,  his  benevolence  exercised. 

Letter  31.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"[London,]  Feb.  1,:766. 
"  Dear  Sir, — T  wrote  to  you  some  weeks  ago,  but  believe  did  not  direct  accu- 
rately, and  therefore  know  not  whether  you  had  my  letter.  I  would,  likewise, 
write  to  your  brother,  but  know  not  where  to  find  him.  I  now  begin  to  see 
land,  after  having  wandered,  according  to  Mr.  Warburton's  phrase,  in  this  vast 
sea  of  words.  What  reception  I  shall  meet  with  on  the  shore,  I  kj'.ow  not : 
whether  the  sound  of  bells,  and  acclamations  of  the  people,  which  Ari^sto  talks 
of  in  hi.o  last  Canto,*  or  a  general  murmur  of  dislike,  I  know  not:  whether  I 
shall  find  upon  the  coast  a  Calypso  that  will  court,  or  a  Polypheme  thi\t  will  re- 
eist.  But  if  Polypheme  comes,  have  at  his  eye.  I  hope,  however,  the  critics 
will  let  me  be  at  peace ;  for  though  I  do  not  much  fear  their  skill  and  strength, 
I  ana  <*  little  afraid  of  myself,  and  would  not  willingly  feel  so  muck  ill-will  in 
my  bosom  as  literary  quarrels  are  apt  to  excite. 

•    "  Sento  venir  per  allegrezza,  un  tuono 

Che  fremar  1'  aria,  e  rimborabar  far  1'  onde : 

Odo  di  squille,"  &c. — Orlando  Fdrioso,  c.  xlvi.  8.  8. 

"A  burst  of  joy,  like  thunder  to  my  ear, 

Rumbles  along  the  sea  and  rends  the  sky ; 
I  chiming  bells,  I  thrilling  trumpets  hear, 
Confounded  with  the  people's  cheerful  cry  ; 
And  now  their  forms,  that  swarm  on  either  pier 
Of  the  thick-crowded  harbour,  I  descry. 
All  seem  rejoiced  my  task  is  smoothly  done, 
And  I  so  long  a  course  have  safely  run." — RfOL 
MB 


^TAT.45.  DEGREE    OF    M.    A.  229 

"  Mr.  Baretti  is  about  a  work  for  which  he  is  in  great  want  of  Cresciiiibeui, 
which  you  may  have  again  when  you  please. 

"There  is  nothing  considerable  done  or  doing  among  us  here.  We  are  not, 
perhaps,  as  innocent  as  villagers,  but  most  of  us  seem  to  be  as  idle.  I  hope, 
however,  you  arc  busy;  and  should  be  glad  to  know  what  you  aie  doing.  I 
am,  dearest  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  32.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  Feb.  4, 1755. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  received  your  letter  this  day,  with  great  sense  of  the  favour 
that  has  been  done  me  ;  *  for  which  I  return  my  most  sincere  thanks :  and 
entreat  you  to  pay  to  Mr.  Wise  such  returns  as  I  ought  to  make  for  so  much 
kindness  so  little  deserved. 

"  I  sent  Mr.  Wise  the  Lexicon,  and  afterwards  wrote  to  him  ;  but  know  not 
whether  he  had  either  the  book  or  letter.  Be  so  good  as  to  contrive  to 
inquire. 

"But  why  does  my  dear  Mr.  Warton  tell  me  nothing  of  himself?  Where 
hangs  the  new  volume  ?  "  Can  I  help  ?  Let  not  the  past  labour  be  lost,  for 
want  of  a  little  more  :  but  snatch  what  time  you  can  from  the  Hall,  and  the 
pupils,  and  the  cofiTee-house,  and  the  parks,'  and  complete  your  design.  I  am, 
dear  Sir,  &c.  Sam.  Johnson. 

Letter  33.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  Feb.  13, 1T55. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  had  a  letter  last  week  from  Mr.  Wise,  but  have  yet  heard 
lothing  from  you,  nor  know  in  what  state  my  affair  stands  ;  of  which  I  beg 
you  to  inform  me,  if  you  can,  to-morrow,  by  the  return  of  the  post. 

"Mr.  Wise  sends  me  word,  that  he  has  not  had  the  Finnick  Lexicon  yet, 
which  I  sent  some  time  ago  ;  and  if  he  has  not,  you  must  inquire  after  it. 
However,  do  not  let  your  letter  stay  for  that. 

"Your  brother,  who  is  a  better  correspondent  than  you,  and  not  much  bet- 
ter, sends  me  word,  that  your  pupils  keep  you  in  College  :  but  do  they  keep 
you  from  writing  too  ?  Let  them,  at  least,  give  you  time  to  write  to,  dear  Sir, 
your  most  affectionate,  &c.,  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  34.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  Feb.  1T55. 
"Dear  Sir, — Dr.  King*  was  with  me  a  few  minutes  before  your  letter;  this, 

1  His  degree  had  now  past  the  suffrages  of  the  heads  of  colleges ;  but  was  not  yet  finally 
granted  by  the  university. — Warton. 
,"  On  Spenser.— Warton. 

*  The  walks  near  Oxford  so  called. — C. 

*  Principal  of  Saint  Mary  Hall  at  Oxford.  He  brought  with  him  tlie  diploma  from  Oxford.— 
Warton. 


230  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "'*• 

however,  is  the  first  instance  in  which  your  kind  intentions  to  me  have  everheen 

frustrated.'     I  have  now  the  full  effect  of  your  care  and  benevolence;  and  am 

far  from  thinking  it  a  slight  honour  or  a  small  advantage  ;  since  it  will  put  the 

enjoyment  of  your  conversation   more   frequently  in  the  power  of,  dear  Sir, 

your  most  obliged  and  affectionate, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

"P.  S.  I  have  enclosed  a  letter  to  the  Vice-Chancellor,  which  you  will  read 
and,  if  you  like  it,  seal  and  give  him." 

As  the  public  will  doubtless  be  pleased  to  see  the  whole  progress 
of  this  well-earned  academical  honour,  I  shall  insert  the  Chancellor 
of  Oxford's  letter  to  the  University,  the  diploma,  and  Johnson's  let- 
ter of  thanks  to  the  Vice-Ohancellor. 

Tetter  35.  TO  THE  REV.  DR.  HUDDESFORD, 

[President  of  Trinity  College,]  Vice-Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Oxford:  to  be  com- 
municated to  the  Heads  of  Houses,  and  proposed  in  Convocation. 

"  Grosvenor  street,  Feb.  4, 1755. 
"Mr.  Vice-Chancellor,  and  Gentlemen: 

"  Mr.  Samuel  Johnson,  who  was  formerly  of  Pembroke  College,  having  very 
eminently  distinguished  himself  by  the  publication  of  a  series  of  essays,  excel- 
lently calculated  to  form  the  manners  of  the  people,  and  in  which  the  cause  of 
religion  and  morality  is  everywhere  maintained  by  the  strongest  powers  of 
argument  and  language  ;  and  who  shortly  intends  to  publish  a  Dictionary  of 
the  English  tongue,  formed  on  a  new  plan,  and  executed  with  the  greatest 
labour  and  judgment;  I  persuade  myself  that  I  shall  act  agreeably  to  the  sen- 
timents of  the  whole  University,  in  desiring  that  it,  may  be  proposed  in  convo- 
cation to  confer  on  him  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  by  diploma,  to  which  I 
readily  give  my  consent ;  and  am,  Mr.  Vice-Chancellor,  and  Gentleman,  your 
affectionate  friend  and  servant,  Arran." 

Term   S<:''. 

iiiarii.  "DIPLOMA  MAGISTRI  JOHNSON. 

1755. 

"  CANCELLARina,  Magistri,  et  Scholares  Universitatis  Oxoniensia  omnibus  ad  quos  hoc  present 
Bcriptura  pervenerit,  salutem  in  Domino  sempiternam. 

"  Ciim  eum  in  finem  gradus  academici  a  majoribus  nostris  instituti  fuerint,  ut  viri  ingenle 
et  doctrina  pra;stantes  titulis  quoque  prajter  Cieteros  insignirentur;  cuinque  vir  doctissiinus 
Samuel  Johnson  e  CoUegio  Pembrochiensi,  scriptis  suis  popularium  mores  informantibus  du- 
dum  literato  orbi  innotuerit ;  quin  ei  linguse  patria;  turn  ornandie  turn  stabilienda;  (Lexicon 
scilicet  Angelicanum  summo  studio,  summo  a  se  judicio  congestum  propediem  editurus)  etiam 
nunc  utilissimam  impendat  operam  ;  Nos  igitur  Cancellarius,  Magestri,  et  Scholares  antedicti, 

•  I  suppose  Johnson  means,  that  my  ki7id  intention  of  being  i\\ejirst  to  give  him  the  gooa- 
news  of  the  degree  being  granted  was  fruatrated,  because  Dr.  King  brought  i*  before  ny 
Intelligence  arrived. — Warton. 


^'"'^■^  ^^-  DIPLOMA    OF   it.  A.  231 

n6  virnm  de  Uteris  humanioribus  optirafe  meritura  diutius  inlionoratum  prastereamus  In  solenni 
Couvocatioue  Doctoiuin,  ^lugistorum,  Kegentium,  et  non  Hegentiuiii,  deciiiio  die  Mensis 
l"'ebruarU  Anno  Domini  Millessimo  Septingentisimo  Quinquagesimo  quinto  Iiabita,  pricfatum 
virura  Saniuelejn  Johnxon  (conspirantibus  omnium  suiriagiis)  Magistrumin  Artil)us  renuncia- 
viniu3  et  constituimus  ;  eumque,  virtute  prresentis  diplomatis,  singulis  juribus,  privilegiis,  et 
honoribus  ad  istum  gradum  quaqua  perlint'ntibus  frui  et  gaudere  jussimus. 

"  In  cujas  rei  testimonium  sigillum  Universitatis  Oxoniensis  prajsentibus  apponi  fecimus. 

"  Datum  in  Domo  nostrte  Convocationis  die  20° 
Mensis  Feb.  Anno  Dom.  praadicto. 

"  Diploma  supra  scriptum  per  Registrarium  lectum  erat,  et  ex  decreto  venerabilia  Domib 
somrauni  Universitatis  sigillo  munitum"  ' 

Letter  36.  '  "  Londini.  4to  Cal.  Mart.  1755^ 

"  VmO  REVERENDO  [GEORGIO]  IIUDDESFORD,  S.  T.  P.  Uuiversitatia 
Oxoniensis  Vicc-Cancellario  Dignissiino,  S.  P.  D. 

"  Samuel  Johnson. 

"  lN<3KATtrs  plane  et  tibi  et  mihi  videar,  nisi  quanto  me  gaudio  affecerint, 
qnos  mipcr  mihi  honores  (tc,  credo,  auctore),  decrevit  Senatus  Academicuo, 
litcrarum,  quo  tamen  niliil  levius,  officio,  significem :  ingratus  etiam,  nisi  comi- 
tatem  qua  vir  eximius  ^  mihi  vestri  testimonium  amoris  in  manus  tradidit. 
agnoscam  et  laudem.  Si  quid  est,  unde  rei  tarn  gratse  accedat  gratia,  hoc  ipso 
mitgis  mihi  placet,  quod  eo  tempore  in  ordines  Academicos  denuo  cooptatua 
£im,  quo  tuam  imminucre  auctoritatem,  famamque  Oxonii  lajdeie,  omnibus 
modi3  conantur  homines  vafri,  nee  tamen  acuti :  quibus  ego,  prout  viro  um- 
bratico  licuit,  semper  restiti,  semper  rcstiturus.  .Qui  enim,  inter  has  rerum 
procellas,  vel  tibi  vel  Academiae  defuerit,  ilium  virtuti  et  Uteris,  sibique  et  poa- 
teris,  defuturum  existimo.     Vale." 

Letter  37.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"  [London,]  March  20, 1755. 
"Dear  Sir, — After  I  received  my  diploma,  I  wrote  you  a  letter  of  thanks 
witlr  a  letter  to  the  Vice-Chancellor,  and  sent  another  to  Mr.  Wise  ;  but  have 
heard  from  nobody  since,  and  begin  to  think  myself  forgotten.  It  is  true, 
sent  you  a  double  letter,  and  you  may  fear  an  expensive  correspondent ;  but  1 
would  have  taken  it  kindly,  if  you  had  returned  it  treble;  and  wl:at  is  * 
double  letter  to  a  p<tti/  king,  that  having  fellowship  a7id  fines,  can  sleep  with- 
out a  Modus  in  Ids  head?  ' 

1  The  original  is  in  my  possession. — B. 

»  We  may  conceive  what  a  high  gratification  it  must  have  been  to  Johnson  to  receive  hia 
iiploma  from  the  hands  of  the  great  Dr.  King,  whose  principles  were  so  congenial  v'A)x  hit 
own. — B, 

•    "These  fellowships  are  preiry  things  ; 
We  live  indeed  lilie  petty  kings, 


232  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^ 

"  Dear  Mr.  Warton,  let  me  hear  from  you,  and  tell  me  something,  I  care  nol 
what,  so  I  hear  it  but  from  you.  Something,  I  will  tell  you : — I  hope  to  see 
my  Dictionary  bound  and  lettered,  next  week  ; — vastd  mole  snperbug.  And  1 
have  a  great  mind  to  come  to  Oxford  at  Easter;  but  you  will  not  invite  me. 
Shall  I  come  uninvited,  or  stay  here  where  nobody  perhaps  would  miss  me  if 
I  went?     A  hard  choice  1     But  such  is  the  world  to,  dear  Sir,your.s,  &c, 

"  Sam.  Johkson."  * 

Letter  38.  TO  THE  SAME. 

•*  [London,]  Mai  ch  S5, 1766. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Though  not  to  write,  when  a  man  can  write  so  well,  is  ai 
offence  sufficiently  heinous,  yet  I  'shall  pass  it  by.  1  am  very  glad  that  th 
Vice-Chancellor  was  pleased  with  my  note.  I  shall  impatiently  expect  you  at 
London,  that  we  may  consider  what  to  do  next.  1  intend  in  the  winter  to 
open  a  Bibliotheque,  and  remember,  that  you  are  to  subscribe  a  sheet  a  year ; 
let  us  try,  likewise,  if  we  cannot  persuade  your  brother  to  subscribe  another. 
My  book  is  now  coming  in  lumhds  oras.  What  wUl  be  its  fate  I  know  not, 
nor  think  much,  because  thinking  is  to  no  purpose.  It  must  stand  the  censure 
of  the  great  vulgar,  and  the  ainall ;  of  those  that  undeistand  it,  and  that  un- 
derstand it  not  But  in  all  this,  I  suffer  not  alone  ;  every  writer  has  the  same 
difficulties,  and,  perhaps,  every  writer  talks  of  them  more  than  he  thinks. 

"  You  will  be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  all  ray  friends  ;  and  be 
60  kind,  at  every  idle  hour,  as  to  remember,  dear  Sir,  yours,  &c. 

"  Sam  Johnson  " 

Dr.  Adams  told  me,  .that  this  scheme  of  a  ^iUiotkeqne  was  a 
serious  one  :  for  upon  his  visiting  him  one  day,  he  found  his  parlour 
floor  covered  with  parcels  of  foreign  and  English  literary  journals, 
and  he  told  Dr.  Adams  he  meant  to  undertake  a  Review.  "  Uow, 
sir  (said  Dr.   Adams),  can   you   think  of  doing   it   alone?      AH 

And  every  night  I  went  to  bed, 
Without  a  Modus  in  my  head." — 

Warton's  Progress  of  Discontent. 
'  The  following  extract  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Warton  to  his  brother  will  show  his  first  sentl 
ments  on  this  great  work : — "  19th  April,  17.55.  The  Dictionary  is  arrived ;  the  preface  is 
noble.  There  is  a  gi-ammar  prefixed,  and  the  history  of  the  language  is  pretty  full;  but  you 
may  plainly  perceive  strokes  of  laxity  and  indolence.  They  are  two  most  unwieldy  volumes. 
I  have  written  him  an  invitation.  I  fear  his  preface  will  disgust,  by  the  expression  of  his  con- 
sciousness of  superiority,  and  of  his  contempt  of  patronage.  The  Rawlinson  benefaction  it 
won't  do  for  Johnson,  which  is  this — a  professorship*  of  80^.  per  annum,  which  is  not  to  take 
place  these  forty  years ;  a  fellowsh'p  to  Hertford  College,  which  is  too  ample  for  them  to  re- 
ceive agreeably  to  Newton's  statutes  ;  and  a  fellowship  to  St.  John's  College.  Neither  of  the 
.ast  are  to  take  place  these  forty  years." — C. 

*  By  this,  I  suppose,  is  meant  the  Anglo-Saxon  professorship  which  was  founded  in  1760^ 
but  did  not  take  effect  before  1795. — Hall. 


^"'•'**-  THE    DICTIOiVARY.  233 

branches  of  knowledge  must  be  considered  in  it.  Do  you 
know  Mathematics  ?  Do  you  know  Natural  History  ?"  Johnson 
answered,  "  Why,  sir,  I  must  do  all  as  well  as  I  can.  My  chief 
purpose  is  to  give  my  countrymen  a  view  of  what  is  doing  in  litera- 
ture upon  the  continent  ;  and  I  shall  have,  in  a  good  measure,  the 
choice  of  my  subject,  for  I  shall  select  such  books  as  I  best  under- 
stand." Dr.  Adams  suggested,  that  as  Dr,  Maty  had  just  then 
finished  his  Bibliolheque  Britannique,  which  was  a  well  executed 
work,  giving  foreigners  an  account  of  British  publications,  he  might, 
with  great  advantage,  assume  him  as  an  assistant.  "  He,  (said 
Johnson)  the  little  black  dog  1  Pd  throw  him  into  the  Thames."' 
The  scheme,  however,  was  dropped. 

In  one  of  his  little  memorandum-books  I  find  the  following  hints 
for  his  intended  Review  or  Literary  Journal  ;  "  The  Annals  of  Lite- 
rature, foreign  as  well  as  domestic.  Imitate  Le  Clerc — Bayle — Bar- 
beyrac.  Infelicity  of  Journals  in  England.  Works  of  the  learned. 
We  cannot  take  in  all.  Sometimes  copy  from  foreign  Journalists. 
Always  tell." 

Letter  39.  TO  DR.  BIRCH. 

«'  March,  29, 1T55. 
"  Sir, — I  have  sent  some  parts  of  my  Dictionary,  such  as  were  at  hand,  for 
your  inspection.     The  favour  which  I  beg  is,  that  if  you  do  not  lilve  them,  you 
will  say  nothing.     I  am.  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  40.  TO  MR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  Norfolk-street,  April  23,  1765. 
"  Sir, — The  part  of  your  Dictionary  which  you  have  favoured  nie  with  the 
sight  of,  has  given  me  such  an  idea  of  the  whole,  that  I  must  sincerely  con- 
gratulate  the  public  upon  the  acquisition  of  a  work  long  wanted,  and  now 

'  Matthew  Maty,  M.D.  and  F.R.S.,  was  born  in  Holland  in  1718,  and  educated  at  Leyden, 
Dut  he  came  in  1740  to  settle  In  England.  He  became  secretary  to  the  KoyaPSociety  in  1765, 
and  In  1772,  principal  librarian  of  the  Britisli  Museum.  Maty  being  the  friend  and  admirer 
of  Lord  Chesterfield,  whose  works  he  afterwards  published,  would,  as  Dr.  Hall  observes,  par- 
ticula.Hy  at  this  period,  have  little  recommendation  to  the  good  opinion  of  the  lexicographer; 
but  his  Journal  Britannique  is  mentioned  by  Mr.  Gibbon  in  a  tone  very  different  from  Dr. 
Johnson's.  "  This  humble  though  useful  labour,  which  had  once  been  dignified  by  the  genius 
of  Bayle  and  the  learning  of  Le  Clerc,  was  not  disgraced  by  the  taste,  the  knowledge,  and  the 
judgment  of  Maty.  His  style  is  pure  and  eloquent,  and  in  his  virtues,  or  even  in  his  defeats, 
he  may  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  last  disciples  of  the  school  of  Fontenelle." — Gibbon's  MteOi 
Works.     Dr.  Maty  died  in  1776.— C. 


^34  LIFE    Of   JOHKSON.  1^** 

executed  w.th  an  industry,  accuracy,  and  judgment,  equal  to  the  importance 
of  the  subject.  You  might,  perhaps,  have  chosen  one  in  which  your  genius 
would  have  appeared  to  more  advantage,  but  you  could  not  have  fixed  upon 
any  other  in  which  your  labours  would  have  done  such  substantial  service  to 
the  present  age  and  to  posterity.  I  am  glad  that  your  health  has  supported 
the  application  necessary  to  the  performance  of  so  vast  a  task;  and  can  under- 
take  to  promise  you  as  one  (though  perhaps  the  only)  reward  of  it,  the  appro- 
bation and  thanks  of  every  well-wisher  to  the  honour  of  the  English  language. 
I  am,  with  the  greatest  regard.  Sir,  your  most  faithful  and  most  affectionate 
humble  sei-vant, 

"Tho.  Birch." 

Mr.  Charles  Burney,  who  has  since  distinguished  himself  so  much 
in  the  science  of  music,  and  obtained  a  Doctor's  degree  from  tb® 
University  of  Oxford,  had  been  driven  from  the  capital  by  bad 
aealth,  and  was.  now  residing  at  Lynne  Regis  in  Norfolk.  He  had 
been  so  much  delighted  with  Johnson's  Rambler,  and  the  plan  of  his 
Dictionary,  that  when  the  great  work  was  announced  in  the  news- 
papers as  nearly  finished,  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Johnson,  begging  to  be 
informed  when  and  in  what  manner  his  Dictionary  would  be  pub- 
lished ;  intreating,  if  it  should  be  by  subscription,  or  he  should  liave 
any  books  at  his  own  disposal,  to  be  favoured  with  six  copies  for 
himself  and  friends. 

In  answer  to  this  application.  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  the  following 
letter,  of  which  (to  use  Dr.  Burney's  own  words)  "if  it  be  remem- 
bered that  it  was  written  to  an  obscure  young  man,  who  at  this 
time  had  not  much  distinguished  himself  even  in  his  own  profession, 
but  whose  name  could  never  have  reached  the  author  of  The  Ram- 
bler, the  politeness  and  urbanity  may  be  opposed  to  some  of  the 
stories  which  have  been  lately  circulated  of  Dr.  Johnson's  natural 
rudeness  and  ferocity." 

Letter  41.        TO  MR.  BURXEY,  IN  LYNNE  REGIS,  NORFOLK. 

"  Gough  Square,  Fleet  Street,  April  8, 1756. 
"Sir,— If  you  imagine  that  by  delaying  my  answer  I  intended  to  shew  any  - 
aeglect  of  the  notice  with  which  you  have  favoured  me,  you  will  neither  think 
justly  of  yourself  nor  of  me.  Your  civilities  were  offered  with  too  much  ale- 
gar ce  not  to  engage  attention  ;  and  I  have  too  much  pleasure  in  pleasing  men 
Ifke  you,  not  tc  ^*el  very  sensibly  the  distinction  which  you  have  bestowed 
upon  me. 


*''•'''• -^^  THE    DICTIONARY.  235 

"  Few  consequences  of  my  endeavours  to  please  or  to  benefit  mankind  have 
delighted  me  more  than  your  friendship  thus  voluntarily  offered,  which  now  I 
have  it  I  hope  to  keep^  because  I  hope  to  continue  to  deserve  it. 

"  I  have  no  Dictionaries  to  dispose  of  for  myself,  but  shall  be  glad  to  have 
you  direct  your  friends  to  Mr.  Dodsley,  because  it  was  by  his  recommendation 
that  I  was  employed  in  the  work. 

"  When  you  have  leisure  to  think  again  upon  me  let  me  be  favoured  with  an- 
other letter;  and  another  yet,  when  you  have  looked  into  my  Dictionary.  If 
you  find  faults,  I  shall  endeavour  to  mend  them  ;  if  you  find  none,  I  shall  think 
you  blinded  by  kind  partiality ;  but  to  have  made  you  partial  in  his  favour, 
will  very  much  gratify  the  ambition  of.  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  hum- 
ble servant, 

"  Sam.  JonNSON." 

Mr.  Andrew  Millar,  bookseller  in  the  Strand,  took  the  principal 
charge  of  conducting  the  publication  of  Johnson's  Dictionary  ;  aud 
as  the  patience  of  the  proprietors  was  repeatedly  tried  and  almost 
exhausted,  by  their  expecting  that  the  work  would  be  completed 
within  the  time  which  Jolinson  had  sanguiuely  supposed,  the  learned 
author  was  often  goaded  to  dispatch,  more  especially  a.s  he  had  re- 
ceived all  the  copy-money,  by  different  drafts,  a  considerable  time 
before  he  had  finished  his  task.  When  the  messenger  who  carried 
the  last  sheet  to  Millar  returned,  Johnson  asked  him,  "  Well,  what 
did  he  say  ?" — "  Sir  (answered  the  messenger),  he  said,  thank  God 
I  have  done  with  him."  "  I  am  glad  (replied  Johnson  with  a  smile), 
that  he  thanks  God  for  anything."  '  It  is  remarkable,  that  those 
with  whom  Johnson  chiefly  contracted  for  his  literary  labours  were 
Scotchmen,  Mr.  Millar  and  Mr.  Strahan.  Millar,  though  himself  no 
great  judge  of  hterature,  had  good  sense  enough  to  have  for  his 
friends  very  able  men  to  give  him  their  opinion  aud  advice  in  the 
purchase  of  copy-right  ;  the  consequence  of  which  was  his  acquiring 
a  very  large  fortune,  with  great  liberality.  Johnson  said  of  him, 
"  1  respect  Millar,  sir  ;  he  has  raised  the  price  of  literature."  The 
same  praise  must  be  justly  gfven  to  Panckoucke,  the  eminent  book- 
seller of  Paris.  Mr.  Strahau's  liberality,  judgment,  and  success,  are 
well  known. 

1  Sir  John  Hawkins  inserts  two  notes  as  having  passed  formally  between  Andrew  Millar  and 
Johnson  to  the  above  effect.  I  am  assured  this  was  not  the  case.  In  the  way  of  incidental 
remark  it  was  a  pleasant  play  of  raillery.  To  have  deliberately  written  notes  in  such  terms 
wouW  have  been  morose. 


236  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^**' 

Letter  42.  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,  ESQ. 

At  Lang  (on,  Lincolnshire. 

«'  May  6, 1755 

"  Sir, — It  has  been  long  observed,  that  men  do  not  suspect  faults  which  they 
do  not  commit;  your  own  elegance  of  manners,  and  punctuality  of  complai- 
sance, did  not  suffer  you  to  impute  to  me  that  negligence  of  which  I  waa 
guilty,  and  [for]  which  I  have  not  since  atoned.  I  received  both  your  letters, 
and  received  them  with  pleasure  proportionate  to  the  esteem  which  so  short  an 
acquaintance  strongly  impressed,  and  which  I  hope  to  confirm  by  nearer  know- 
ledge, though  I  am  afraid  that  gratification  will  be  for  a  time  withheld. 

"  I  have,  indeed,  published  my  booii,'  of  which  I  beg  to  know  your  father's 
judgment,  and  yours  ;  and  I  have  now  staid  long  enough  to  watch  its  progress 
in  the  world.  It  has,  you  see,  no  patrons,  and,  I  think,  has  yet  had  no  oppo- 
nents, except  the  critics  of^the  coffee-house,  whose  outcries  are  soon  dispersed 
into  the  air,  and  are  thought  on  no  more  :  from  this,  therefore,  I  am  at  liberty, 
and  think  of  taking  the  opportunity  of  this  interval  to  make  an  excursion,  and 
why  not  then  into  Lincolnshire  ?  or,  to  mention  a  stronger  attraction,  why  not 
to  dear  Mr.  Langton?  I  will  give  the  true  reason,  which  I  know  you  will  ap- 
prove:— I  have  a  mother  more  than  eighty  years  old,  who  has  counted  the 
days  to  the  publication  of  my  book,  in  hopes  of  seeing  me ;  and  to  her,  if  I 
can  disengage  myself  here,  I  resolve  to  go. 

"  As  I  know,  dear  Sir,  that  to  delay  my  visit  for  a  reason  like  this,  will  not 
deprive  me  of  your  esteem,  I  beg  it  may  not  lessen  your  kindness.  I  have 
very  seldom  received  an  offer  of  friendship  which  I  so  earnestly  desire  to  cul- 
tivate and  mature.  I  shall  rejoice  to  hear  from  you,  till  I  can  see  you,  and 
will  see  you  as  soon  as  I  can  ;  for  when  the  duty  that  calls  me  to  Lichfield  ia 
discharged,  my  inclination  will  carry  me  to  Langton.  I  shall  delight  to  hear 
the  ocean  roar,  or  see  the  stars  twinkle,  in  the  company  of  men  to  whom  na- 
ture does  not  spread  her  volumes  or  utter  her  voice  in  vain. 

"  Do  not,  dear  Sir,  make  the  slowness  of  this  letter  a  precedent  for  delay, 
or  imagine  that  I  approved  the  incivility  that  I  have  committed ;  for  I  have 
known  you  enough  to  love  you,  and  sincerely  to  wish  a  further  knowledge ; 
and  I  assure  you,  once  more,  that  to  live  in  a  house  that  contains  such  a  father 
and  such  a  son,  will  be  accounted  a  very  uncommon  degree  of  pleasure  by, 
dear  Sir,  you  most  obliged,  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  43.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"  [London,]  May  18, 1765. 
"  Dear  Sir, — I  am  grieved  that  you  should  think  me  capable  of  neglecting 
your  letters ;  and  beg  you  will  never  admit  any  such  suspicion  igain.     I  pui^ 

1  His  Dictionary. 


**"  *6-  LKtTERS   TO    WARTON  231' 

pose  to  come  down  next  week,  if  you  shall  be  there ;  or  any  other  week,  that 
fihall  be  more  agreeable  to  you.  Therefore  let  me  know.  I  can  stay  this  visit 
but  a  week,  but  intend  to  make  preparations  for  a  longer  stay  next  time ;  be- 
ing resolved  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  University.  How  goes  Apollonius  ?  ' 
Don't  let  him  be  forgotten.  Some  things  of  this  kind  must  be  done,  to  keep 
us  up.  Pay  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Wise,  and  all  my  other  friends.  I  think 
to  come  to  Kettcl-Hall.     I  am,  Sir,  your  most  affectionate,  &c. 

'  *  '•  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  44.  TO  MR.  [SAMUEL]  RICHARDSON. 

May  17, 1755. 

"  Dear  Sir, — As  you  were  the  first  that  gave  me  notice  of  this  paragraph,  I 
Bend  it  to  you,  with  a  few  little  notes,  which  I  wish  you  would  read.  It  is  well, 
when  men  of  learning  and  penetration  busy  themselves  in  these  inquiries,  but 
what  is  their  idleness  is  my  business.  Help,  indeed,  now  comes  too  late  for 
me,  when  a  large  part  of  ray  book  has  passed  the  press. 

*'  I  shall  be  glad  if  these  strictures  appear  to  you  not  unwarrantable ;  for 
whom  should  he,  who  toils  in  settling  a  language,  desire  to  please  but  him  who 
is  adorning  it?  I  hope  your  new  book  is  printing.  Made  nova,  virtutc.  1 
am,  dear  Sir,  most  respectfully  and  most  affectionately,  your  humble  servant. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  45.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"  [London,]  June  10, 1755. 
"  Dear  Sir, — It  is  strange  how  many  things  will  happen  to  intercept  every 
pleasure,  though  it  [be]  only  that  of  two  friends  meeting  together.  I  have 
promised  myself  every  day  to  inform  you  when  you  might  expect  me  at  Ox 
ford,  and  have  not  been  able  to  fix  a  time.  The  time,  however,  is,  I  think, 
at  last  come ;  and  I  promise  myself  to  repose  In  KetSel-Hall,  one  of  the  first 
nights  of  the  next  week.  I  am  afraid  my  stay  with  you  cannot  be  long  ;  but 
what  is  the  inference?  We  must  endeavour  to  make  it  cheerful.  I  wish  your 
brother  could  meet  us,  that  we  might  go  and  drink  tea  with  Mr.  Wise  in  a 
Dody.  I  hope  he  will  be  at  Oxford,  or  at  his  nest  of  British  and  Saxon  anti- 
quities. I  shall  expect  to  see  Spenser  finished,  and  many  other  things  begun. 
Dodsley  is  gone  to  visit  the  Dutch.  The  Dictionary  sells  well.  The  rest  oi 
t,he  world  goes  on  as  it  did.     Dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

..etter  46.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  June  24, 1756. 
"Dear  Sir, — To  talk  of  coming  to  you,  and  not  yet  to  come,  has  an  aii 
of  iiifling  which  I  would  not  willingly  have  among  you ;  and  which,  I  believe. 

•  A  translation  of  Apollonius  Rhodius  was  now  intended  by  Mr.  Warton. — Wabton. 


\ 


238  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^'^^• 

you  will  not  willingly  impute  to  me,  when  I  have  told  you,  that  since  my 
promise,  two  of  our  partners '  are  dead,  and  that  I  was  solicited  to  suspend  my 
excursion  till  we  could  recover  from  our  confusion. 

"  I  have  not  laid  aside  my  purpose ;  for  every  day  makes  me  more  impatient 
of  staying  from  you.  But  death,  you  know,  hears  not  supplications,  nor  pays 
any  regard  to  the  convenience  of  mortals.  I  hope  now  to  see  you  next  week ; 
but  next  week  is  but  another  name  for  to-morrow,  which  has  been  noted  for 

promising  and  deceiving.     I  am,  &c.  #  * 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  47.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  [London,]  Aug.  7, 1755. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  told  you  that  among  the  manuscripts  are  some  things  of 
Sir  Thomas  More.  I  beg  you  to  pass  an  hour  in  looking  on  them,  and  procure 
a  transcript  of  the  ten  or  twenty  first  lines  of  each,  to  be  compared  with  w'hat 
I  have  ;  that  I  may  know  whether  they  are  yet  published.  The  manuscripts 
are  these  : 

"  Catalogue  of  Bodl.  MS.  p.  122,  f.  3.  Sir  Thomas  More.  1.  Fall  of  angels. 
2.  Creation  and  fall  of  mankind.  3.  Determination  of  the  Trinity  for  the  rescue 
of  mankind.  4.  Five  lectures  of  our  Saviour's  passion.  5.  Of  the  institution 
of  the  sacrament,  three  lectures.  6.  How  to  receive  the  blessed  body  of  our 
Lord  sacramentally.  V.  Neomenia,  the  new  moon.  8.  De  tristitta,  tcedio, 
pavore,  et  oratione  Ghristi  ante  captionem  ejus. 

"Catalogue,  p.  154.  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  Qa.  Whether  Roper's V 
P.  363.  De  resignatione  Magni  SigilU  in  manus  Regis  per  D.  Tho7nam  Morum. 
Pag.  364.     Mori  Defensio  Morice. 

"  If  you  procure  the  young  gentleman  in  the  library  to  write  out  what  yoa 
think  fit  to  be  written,  I  will  send  to  Mr.  Prince  the  bookseller  to  pay  him 
what  you  shall  think  proper.  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Wise, 
and  all  my  friends.     I  am,  Sir,  your  affectionate,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

The  Uictiouary,  with  a  Grraramar  and  History  of  the  English 
Language,  being  now  at  length  published,  in  two  volumes  folio,  the 
world  contemplated  with  wonder  so  stupendous  a  work  achieved  by 
one  man,  while  other  countries  had  thought  such  undertakings  fit 
only  for  whole  academies.  Vast  as  his  powers  were,  I  cannot  but 
think  that  his  imagination  deceived  him,  when  he  supposed  that  by 
constant  application  he  might  have  performed  the  task  in  three 
years.  Let  the  Preface  be  attentively  perused,  in  which  is  given,  iu 
a  clear,  strong,  and  glowing  style,  a  comprehensiye,  yet  particnlai 

'  Booksellers  conceincd  in  liis  Dictionary, — Warton. 


^"^•^  PREFACE    TO    TUE    DICTIONARY.  23& 

view  of  what  he  had  done  ;  and  it  will  be  evident,  that  the  time  he 
employed  upon  it  was  comparatively  short.  I  am  unwilling  to  swell 
my  book  with  long  quotations  from  what  is  in  everybody's  hands, 
and  I  believe  there  are  few  prose  compositions  in  the  English  lan- 
guage that  are  read  with  more  delight,  or  more  impressed  upon  th« 
memory,  thau  that  preliminary  discourse.  One  of  its  excellencies 
has  always  struck  me  with  peculiar  admiration  ;  I  mean  the  perspi- 
cuity with  which  he  has  exprefssed  abstract;  scientific  notions.  As  an 
instance  of  this,  I  shall  quote  the  following  sentence  :  "  When  the 
radical  idea  branches  out  into  parallel  ramifications,  how  can  a  con- 
secutive series  be  formed  of  senses  in  their  own  nature  collateral  ?" 
We  have  here  an  example  of  what  has  been  often  said,  and  I  Jbelieve 
with  justice,  that  there  is  for  every  thought  a  certain  nice  adaptation 
of  words  which  none  other  could  equal,  and  which,  when  a  man  has 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  hit,  he  has  attained,  in  that  particular  case, 
the  perfection  of  language. 

The  extensive  reading  which  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
accumulation  of  authorities,  and  which  alone  may  account  for  John- 
son's retentive  mind  being  enriched  with  a  very  large  and  various 
store  of  knowledge  and  imagery,  must  have  occupied  several  years. 
The  Preface  furnishes  an  eminent  instance  of  a  double  talent,  of 
which  Johnson  was  fully  conscious.  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  heard  him 
say,  "  There  are  two  things  which  I  am  confident  I  can  do  very  well : 
one  is  an  introduction  to  any  literary  work,  stating  what  it  is  tc 
contain,  and  how  it  should  be  executed  in  the  most  perfect  manner  ; 
the  other  is  a  conclusion,  shewing  from  various  causes  why  the  exe- 
cution has  not  been  equal  to  what  the  author  promised  to  himself 
and  to  the  pubhc." 

How  should  puny  scribblers  be  abashed  and  disappointed,  whet 
they  find  him  displaying  a  perfect  theory  of  lexicographical  excei 
ience,  yet  at  the  same  time  candidly  and  modestly  allowing  that  hv 
"  had  not  satisfied  his  own  expectations."  Here  was  a  fair  occasiofl 
for  the  exercise  of  Johnson's  modesty,  when  he  was  called  upon 
to  compare  his  own  arduous  performance,  not  with  those  of  other 
individuals  (in  which  case  his  inflexible  regard  to  truth  would  have 
Deen  violated  had  he  affected  diffidence),  but  with  speculative  per- 
fection ;  as  he,  who  can  outstrip  all  his  competitors  in  the  race,  maj 


240  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1T«S 

yet  be  sensible  of  his  deficiency  when  he  runs  against  time.  Well 
Tjiight  he  say,  that  "  the  English  Dictionary  was  written  with  httle 
assistance  of  the  learned  ;"  for  he  told  me,  that  the  only  aid  which 
he  received  was  a  paper  containing  twenty  etymologies,  sent  to  him 
by  a  person  then  unknown,  who  he  was  afterwards  informed  was 
Dr.  Pearce,'  Bishop  of  Rochester.  The  etymologies,  though  they 
exhibit  learning  and  judgment,  are  not,  I  think,  entitled  to  the  first 
praise  amongst  the  various  parts  of  this  immense  work.  The  defini- 
tions have  always  appeared  to  me  such  astonishing  proofs  of  acute- 
ness  of  intellect  and  precision  of  language,  as  indicate  a  genius  of  the 
highest  rank.  This  it  is  which  marks  the  superior  excellence  of 
Johnson's  Dictionary  over  others  equally  or  even  more  voluminous, 
and  must  have  made  it  a  work  of  much  greater  mental  labour  than 
mere  Lexicons,  or  Word-Books,  as  the  Dutch  call  them.  They,  who 
will  make  the  experiment  of  trying  how  they  can  define  a  few  words 
of  whatever  nature,  will  soon  be  satisfied  of  the  unquestionable 
justice  of  this  observation,  which  I  can  assure  my  readers  is  founded 
upon  much  study,  and  upon  communication  with  more  minds  than 
my  own. 

A  few  of  his  definitions  must  be  admitted  to  be  erroneous.  Thus, 
Windward  and  Leeward,  though  directly  of  opposite  meaning,  are 
defined  identically  the  same  way  ["  toward  the  wind"]  ;  as  to  which 
inconsiderable  specks  it  is  enough  to  observe,  that  his  Preface  an- 
nounces that  he  was  aware  that  there  might  be  many  such  in  so  im- 
mense a  work;  nor  was  he  at  all  disconcerted  when  an  instance  was 
pointed  out  to  him.'^  A  lady  once  asked  him  how  he  came  to  define 
Pastern  the  knee  of  a  horse  :  instead  of  making  an  elaborate  defence, 
as  she  expected,  he  at  once  answered,  "  Ignorance,  madam,  pure 
ignorance."  His  definition  of  Network  ["  anything  reticulated  or 
decussated  at  equal  distances,  with  interstices  between  the  intersections  "] 
has  been  often  quoted  with  sportive  malignity,  as  obscuring  a  thing 

'  Zachary  Pearce,  born  in  1690,  was  the  son  of  a  distiller  in  High  Holborn  :  he  was  educated 
at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  became  Bishop  of  Rochester  in  1756.  He  died  June  2f , 
1774.  Being  asked,  a  few  days  before  his  death,  how  he  could  live  with  so  little  nouri*ment, 
he  replied,  ''  I  live  upon  the  recollection  of  an  innocent  and  well-spent  life,  which  is  my  only 
lupport." — Nichols,  vol.  iii.  p.  107. 

'^  He  owns  in  his  Preface  the  deficiency  of  the  technical  part  of  his  work ;  s^nd  h«  said,  ba 
Bhould  be  much  obliged  to  me  for  definitions  of  musical  terms  for  bis  next  edition,  which  i»e 
did  not  live  to  superintend. — Burnet, 


SSrXT.ii.  REMARKABLE    DEFINITIONS.  241 

in  itself  very  plain.  But  to  these  frivolous  censures  no  other 
answer  is  necessary  than  that  with  which  we  are  furnished  by  his 
own  Preface  : 

"  To  explain,  requires  the  U8e  of  terms  less  abstruse  than  that  which  is  to 
be  explained,  and  such  terms  cannot  always  be  found.  For,  as  nothing  can  be 
proved  but  by  supposing  something  intuitively  known,  and  evident  without 
proof,  so  nothing  can  be  defined  but  by  the  use  of  words  too  plain  to  admit  of 
definition.  Sometimes  easy  words  are  changed  into  harder;  as  burial,  into 
sepulture  or  interment  ;  dri/,  into  desiccative  ;  dri/ne.is,  into  siccity,  or  aridity  , 
4t,  mio  paroxysm  ;  for  the  easiest  word,  whatever  it  be,  can  never  be  trans- 
lated into  one  more  easy." 

His  introducing  his  own  opinions,  and  even  prejudices,  under  gene- 
ral definitions  of  words,  while  at  the  same  time  the  original  meaning 
of  the  words  is  not  explained,  as  his 

"  Tory  [a  cant  term,  derived,  I  suppose,  from  an  Irish  word  signifying  a 
savage.  One  who  adheres  to  the  ancient  constitution  of  the  state  and  the  apos- 
V)lic  hierarchy  of  the  Church  of  England  :  opposed  to  a  1-17(2^]. 

"  Whig  [the  name  of  a  faction']. 

"Pension  \an  allowance  made  to  any  one  without  an  equivalent.  In  Eng' 
%and  it  is  generally  understood  to  mean  pay  given  to  a  state  hireling  for  treason 
to  his  cou7iiry]. 

"Pensioner  [a  slave  of  state  hired  by  a  stipend  to  obey  his  master]. 

"  Oats  fa  grain  which  in  England  is  generally  given  to  horses,  but  in  Scot 
land  supports  the  people]. 

"  Excise  [a  hateful  tax  levied  upon  commodities,  and  adjudged  not  by  th* 
common  judges  of  property,  but  by  wretches  hired  by  those  to  whom  excise  i> 
paid]."  * 

'  The  commissioners  of  excise  being  offended  by  this  severe  reflection,  consulted  Mr.  Mur- 
ray, then  Attorney-General,  to  know  whether  redress  could  be  legally  obtained.  I  wished  to 
have  procured  for  my  readers  a  copy  of  the  opinion  which  he  gave,  and  which  may  now  be 
justly  considered  as  history  :  but  the  mysterious  secrecy  of  office,  it  seems,  would  not  permit 
it.  I  am,  however,  informed,  by  very  good  authority,  that  its  import  was,  that  tlie  passajju 
might  be  considered  as  actionable;  but  that  it  would  be  more  prudent  in  the  board  not  to 
prosecute.  Johnson  never  made  the  smallest  alteration  in  this  passage.  We  find  he  still 
retained  his  early  prejudice  against  excise;  for  in  "  The  Idler,"  No.  65,  theie  is  the  following 
very  extraordinary  paragraph :  "  The  authenticity  of  Clarendon's  History,  though  printed 
with  the  sanction  of  one  of  the  first  universities  of  the  world,  had  not  an  une.xpected  manu- 
Bcript  been  happily  discovered,  would,  with  the  help  of  factious  credulity,  have  been  brought 
into  question,  by  the  two  lowest  of  all  human  beings,  a  scribbler  for  a  party,  and  a  commis- 
eioner  of  excise."  The  persons  to  whom  he  alludes  were  Mr.  John  Oldmixou,  and  George 
Ducket,  Esq. — BoswELL. 

I  am  more  fortunate  than  M'.  Boawell,  in  being  able  (through  the  favour  jf  Sir  F.  H.  Doyip, 

VOL.  \.         ■  U 


242  LIFE    OF    JOHNSOX.  ''^*" 

And  a  few  more  cannot  be  fully  defended,  and  must  be  placed  to  tbo 
account  of  capricious  and  humorous  indulgence. 

Talking  to  me  upon  this  subject  when  we  were  at  Ashbourne,  in 
1117,  he  mentioned  a  still  stronger  instance  of  the  predominance  of 
his  private  feelings  in  the  composition  of  this  work,  than  any  now  to 
be  found  in  it.  "  You  know,  sir,  Lord  Gower  forsook  the  old  Jaco- 
bite interest.  When  I  came  to  the  word  Renegado,  after  telling 
that  it  meant  '  one  who  deserts  to  the  enemy,  a  revolter,'  I  added, 
Sometimes  we  say  a  Gower.  Thus  it  went  to  the  press  :  but  the 
printer  had  more  wit  than  I,  and  struck  it  out." 

Let  it,  however,  be  remembered,  that  this  indulgence  does  not 
display  itself  only  in  sarcasm  towards  others,  but  sometimes  in  play- 
ful allusion  to  the  notions  commonly  entertained  of  his  own  labo- 
rious task.  Thus,  "  G-ruh  Street,  the  name  of  a  street  in  London, 
much  inhabited  by  writers  of  small  histories,  dictionaries,  and  tem- 
porary poems  ;  whence  any  mean  production  is  called  Grub  Street.''^ 
"  Lexicographer,  a  writer  of  dictionaries,  a  harmless  drudge." 

At  the  time  when  he  was  concluding  his  very  eloquent  Preface, 
Johnson's  mind  appears  to  have  been  in  such  a  state  of  depression, 
that  we  cannot  contemplate  without  wonder  the  vigorous  and  splen- 
did thoughts  which  so  highly  distinguish  that  performance. 

"  I,"  says  he,  "  may  surely  be  contented  without  the  praise  of  perfection, 
which  if  I  could  obtain  in  this  gloona  of  solitude,  what  would  it  avail  me  ?     I 

now  deputy  chairman  of  the  excise  board)  to  present  the  reader  with  the  case  submitted  tc 
Lord  Mansfield,  and  his  opinion  : 

"  Case  for  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Attorney-General. 

"Mr.  Samuel  Johnson  has  lately  published  'A  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language,' 
in  which  are  the  following  words  : 

"  '  Excise,  n.  s.  A  hateful  tax  levied  upon  commodities,  and  adjudged  not  by  the  common 
judges  of  property,  but  wretches  hired  by  those  to  whom  excise  is  paid.' 

"  The  'author's  definition  being  observed  by  the  commissioners  of  excise,  they  desire  the 
favour  of  your  opinion.  '  Qu.  Whether  it  will  not  be  considered  as  a  libel,  and  if  so,  whether 
it  is  not  proper  to  proceed  against  the  author,  printers,  and  publishers  thereof,  or  any  and 
which  of  them,  by  information,  or  how  otherwise  ?' 

"  I  am  of  opinion  that  it  is  a  libel.  But  under  all  the  circumstances,  I  should  think,  it  bet- 
ter to  give  him  an  opportunity  of  altering  his  definition  ;  and,  in  case  he  do  not,  to  threaten 
him  with  an  information. 

"  29th  Nov.  1755.  "  W.  Mi-rr.\t." 

Whether  any  such  step  was  taken.  Sir  Francis  Doyle  has  not  been  able  to  discover:  proba- 
biy  not;  but  Johnson,  in  his  own  octavo  abridgment  of  the  Dictionary,  had  the  good  sense  to 
omit  the  more  offensive  parts  of  the  definitions  of  both  Excise  and  Pension.  We  have  already 
fiKiu  the  probable  motive  of  the  attack  on  the  Excise. — Croker. 


^■f^''-^-  FOREfG>r    HONOURS.  243 

have  protracted  ruy  work  till  most  of  those  whom  I  wished  to  pleasie  have  sunk 
into  the  grave  ;  and  success  and  miscarriage  are  empty  sounds.  I  therefore 
dismiss  it  with  frigid  tranquillity,  having  little  to  fear  or  hope  from  censure  or 
from  praise." 

That  this  indifference  was  rather  a  temporary  tlian  an  habitual 
feeling,  appears,  I  think,  from  his  letters  to  Mr.  Warton  ;  and  how- 
ever he  may  have  been  affected  for  the  moment,  certain  it  is  that 
the  honours  which  his  great  work  procured  him,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  were  very  grateful  to  him.  His  friend,  the  Earl  of  Corke* 
and  Orrery,  being  at  Florence,  presented  it  to  the  Academia  della 
Crusca.  That  Academy  sent  Johnson  their  Vocabulario,  and  the 
French  Academy  sent  him  their  Didionnaire,  which  Mr.  Langton 
had  the  pleasure  to  convey  to  him. 

It  must  undoubtedly  seem  strange,  that  the  conclusiou  of  his  Pre- 
face should  be  expressed  in  terms  so  desponding,  when  it  is  con- 
sidered that  the  author  was  then  only  in  his  forty-sixth  year.  But 
we  must  ascribe  its  gloom  to  that  miserable  dejection  of  spirits  to 
which  he  was  constitutionally  subject,  and  which  was  aggravated 
by  the  death  of  his  wife  two  years  before.  I  have  heard  it  ingeni- 
ously observed  by  a  lady  of  rank  and  elegance,  that  "  his  melan- 
choly was  then  at  its  meridian."  It  pleased  God  to  grant  him 
almost  thirty  years  of  life  after  this  time;  and  once  when  he  was  in 
a  placid  frame  of  mind,  he  was  obliged  to  own  to  me  that  he  had 
enjoyed  happier  days,  and  had  many  more  friends,  since  that  gloomy 
hour,  than  before. 

It  is  a  sad  saying,  that  ""most  of  those  whom  he  wished  to  please 
had  sunk  into  the  grave;"  and  his  case  at  forty-five  was  singularly 
uuhappy,  unless  the  circle  of  his  friends  was  very  narrow.  I  have 
often  thought,  that  as  longevity  is  generally  desired,  and,  I  believe, 
generally  expected,  it  would  be  wise  to  be  continually  adding  to  the 
number  of  our  friends,  that  the  loss  of  some  may  be  supplied  by 
others.  Friendship,  "  the  wine  of  life,"  should,  like  a  well  stocked 
cellar,  be  thus  continually  renewed  ;  and  it  is  consolatory  to  think, 
that  although  we  can  seldom  add  what  will  equal  the  generous ^rs/- 
growths  of  our  youth,  yet  friendship  becomes  insensibly  old  in  much 
less  time  than  is  commonly  imagined,  and  not  many  years  are  re- 
quired to  make  it  very  mellow  and  pleasant.      Warmth  will,  no 


244  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^'"'•• 

doubt,  make  a  considerable  differeace.  Men  of  affectionate  temper 
and  bright  fancy  will  coalesce  a  great  deal  sooner  than  those  who 
are  cold  and  dull. 

The  proposition  which  I  have  now  endeavoured  to  illustrate  was, 
at  a  subsequent  period  of  his  life,  the  opinion  of  Johnson  himself 
He  said  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  "  If  a  man  does  not  mal^e  new 
acquaintances  as  he  advances  through  life,  he  will  soon  find  himself 
left  alone.  A  man,  sir,  should  keep  his  friendship  in  constant  re- 
pair." 

The  celebrated  Mr.  Wilkes,  whose  notions  and  habits  of  life  were 
very  opposite  to  his,  but  who  was  ever  eminent  for  literature  and 
vivacity,  sallied  forth  with  a  little  Jeii  d^Esprit  upon  the  following 
passage  in  his  Grammar  of  the  English  Tongue,  prefixed  to  the 
Dictionary:  "  H  seldom,  perhaps  never,  begins  any  but  the  first 
syllable."  In  an  essay  printed  in  "  The  Public  Advertiser,"  this 
lively  writer  enumerated  many  instances  in  opposition  to  this  re- 
mark; for  example,  "  The  author  of  this  observation  must  be  a  man 
of  a  quick  appre-hension,  and  of  a  most  compre-hensive  genius."  The 
proposition  is  undoubtedly  expressed  with  too  much  latitude. 

This  light  sally,  we  may  suppose,  made  no  great  impression  on 
our  Lexicographer  ;  for  we  find  that  he  did  not  alter  the  passage  till 
many  years  afterwards.* 

He  had  the  pleasure  of  being  treated  in  a  very  different  manner 
by  his  old  pupil  Mr.  Garrick,  in  the  following  complimentary 
Epigram  : 

"  On  Johnson's  Dictionarv. 

"  Talk  of  war  with  a  Briton,  he'll  boldly  advance, 
That  one  English  soldier  will  beat  ten  of  France  ; 
Would  we  alter  the  boast  from  the  sword  to  the  pen, 
Our  odds  are  still  greater,  still  greater  our  men : 
In  the  deep  mines  of  science  though  Frenchmen  may  toil, 
Can  their  strength  be  compared  to  Locke,  Newton,  and  Boyle? 
Let  them  rally  their  heroes,  send  forth  all  their  powers, 
Their  verse-men  and  prose-men,  then  match  them  with  ours  I 

•  In  the  third  edition,  published  in  1778,  he  left  out  the  words  perhapt  never,  and  added 
the  following  paragraph  :— "  It  sometimes  begins  middle  or  final  syllables  in  words  conv 
pounded,  as  hlock-heud  ;  or  derived  from  the  Latin,  as  compre-hended." 


-*"''•  ^-  '     ZACHARiAH   WILLIAMS.  '245 

First  Shakspeare  and  Miltou,  like  Gods  in  the  fight, 
Have  put  their  whole  drama  and  epic  to  flight; 
In  satires,  epistles,  and  odes  would  they  cope, 
Their  numbers  retreat  before  Dryden  and  Pope  ; 
And  Johnson,  well  arm'd  like  a  hero  of  yore, 
Has  beat  forty  French,'  and  will  beat  forty  more  I" 

Johnson  this  year  gave  at  once  a  proof  of  his  benevolence  quick- 
ness of  apprehension,  and  admu'able  art  of  composition,  in  the 
assistance  which  he  gave  to  Mr.  Zachariah  Williams,  father  of  the 
blind  lady  whom  he  had  humanely  received  under  his  roof.  Mr. 
Williams  had  followed  the  profession  of  physic  in  Wales  ;  but 
having  a  very  strong  propensity  to  the  study  of  natural  philosophy, 
had  made  many  ingenious  advances  towards  a  discovery  of  the 
longitude,  and  repaired  to  London  in  hopes  of  obtaining  the  great 
parliamentary  reward.  He  failed  of  success  :  but  Johnson  having 
made  himself  master  of  his  principles  and  experiments,  wrote  for  him 
a  pamphlet,  published  in  quarto,  with  the  following  title  :  "  An 
Account  of  an  attempt  to  ascertain  the  Longitude  at  Sea,  by  an 
exact  Theory  of  the  Variation  of  the  Magnetical  Needle  ;  with  a 
Table  of  the  Variations  at  the  most  remarkable  Cities  in  Europe, 
from  the  year  1660  to  1680."f  To  diffuse  it  more  extensively,  it 
was  accompanied  with  an  Italian  translation  on  the  opposite  page, 
which  it  is  supposed  was  the  work  of  Signor  Baretti,*  an  Italian  of 
considerable  literature,  who  having  come  to  England  a  few  years 
before,  had  been  employed  in  the  capacity  both  of  a  language 
master  and  as  author,  and  formed  an  intimacy  with  Dr.  Johnson. 
This  pamphlet  Johnson  presented  to  the  Bodleian  Library.  On  a 
blank  leaf  of  it  is  pasted  a  paragraph  cut  out  of  a  newspaper,  con- 
taining an  account  of  the  death  and  character  of  Williams,  plainly 
written  by  Johnson.' 

'  The  number  of  the  French  Academy  employed  in  settling  their  language. 

'  This  ingenious  foreigner,  who  was  a  native  of  Piedmont,  came  to  England  about  the  year 
1753,  and  died  in  London,  May  5,  V!S9.  A  very  candid  and  judicious  account  of  him  and  his 
worlis,  written,  it  is  believed,  by  a  distinguished  dignitary  in  the  church,  [Dr.  Vincent,  Dean 
of  Westminster,]  Aay  be  found  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  that  yeai. — M. 

^  "  On  Saturday  the  12th,  [July,  1755]  about  twelve  at  night,  died  Mr.  Zachariah  Williams, 
.n  his  eighty-third  year,  after  an  illness  of  eight  months,  in  full  possession  of  his  mental  facul- 
ties He  has  been  long  known  to  philosophers  and  seamen  for  his  skill  in  magnetism,  and  his 
proposal  to  ascertain  the  longitude  by  a  peculiar  system  of  the  variation  of  the  compass.    H9 


a4^  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  itlJ*- 

In  July  this  year  he  had  formed  some  scheme  of  mental  improve- 
ment, the  particular  purpose  of  which  does  not  appear.  But  we  find 
in  his  "  Prayers  and  Meditations,"  p.  25,  a  prayer  entitled,  "  On 
the  Study  of  Philosophy,  as  an  instrument  of  living  ;"  and  after  it 
follows  a  note,  "  This  study  was  not  pursued." 

On  the  13th  of  the  same  month  he  wrote  in  his  Journal  the  fol- 
lowing scheme  of  Hfe,  for  Sunday  :  "  Having  lived "  (as  he  with 
tenderness  of  conscience  expresses  himself)  "not  without  an  habit- 
ual reverence  for  the  Sabbath,  yet  without  that  attention  to  its 
"eligious  duties  which  Christianity  requires  ;" 

"1.  To  rise  early,  and  in  order  to  it,  to  go  to  sleep  early  on  Saturday. 
"  2.  To  use  some  extraordinary  devotion  in  the  morning. 
"  3.  To  examine  the  tenor  of  my  hfe,  and  particularly  the  last  week  ;  and  to 
mark  my  advances  in  religion,  or  recession  from  it. 

"  4.  To  read  the  Scripture  methodically  with  such  helps  as  are  at  hand. 

"  6.  To  go  to  church  twice. 

"  6.  To  read  books  of  divinity,  either  speculative  or  practical. 

'"7.  To  instruct  my  family. 

"  8.  To  wear  off  by  meditation  any  worldly  soil  contracted  in  the  week." 

In  lT56"Johnson  found  that  the  great  fame  of  his  Dictionary  had 
not  set  him  above  the  necessity  of  "  making  provision  for  the  day 
that  was  passing  over  him."  '     No  royal  or  noble  patron  extended  a 

was  a  man  of  industry  indefatigable,  of  conversation  inoffensive,  patient  of  adversity  and  dis- 
ease, eminently  sober,  temperate,  and  pious  ;  and  worthy  to  have  ended  life  with  better 
fortune." 

1  He  was  so  far  from  being  "  set  above  the  necessity  of  making  provision  for  the  day  that 
was  passing  over  him,"  that  he  appears  to  have  been  in  this  year  in  great  pecuniary  distress, 
having  been  arrested  for  debt ;  on  which  occasion  his  friend  Samuel  Kichirdson  became  his 
surety. — See  Uichardson's  Correspondence,  vol.  v.  p.  285. 

Letter  43.  Dr.  Johnson  to  Mr.  Richardson. 

"  Tuesday,  19th  Feb.  1766 
"  Dear  Sir, — I  return  you  my  sincerest  thanks  for  the  favour  which  you  were  pleased  to 
do  me  two  nights  ago.     Be  pleased  to  accept  of  this  little  book,  which  is  all  that  I  have  pub- 
lished this  winter.     The  inflammation  has  come  again  into  my  eye,  so  that  I  can  write  very 
little.    I  am.  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson.' 

Letter  49.  To  Mr.  Richardson.  • 

"  Gongh  Square,  16th  March,  1756. 
"  Sir, — I  am  obliged  to  entreat  your  assistance ;  I  am  now  under  an  arrest  for  five  pounds 
eighteen  shillings.     Mr.  Strahan,  from  whom  I  should  have  received  the  necessary  help  in  this 
case,  is  not  at  lome,  and  I  am  afraid  of  not  finding  Mr.  Millar.     If  you  will  le  so  good  .<is  to 


*fiT.  47.  THE    DICTIOXARY.  247 

ninniOceut  baud  to  give  iudependeucc  to  tlie  luciu  who  had  confei'rea 
stability  on  the  language  of  his  country.  We  may  feel  indignant 
that  there  sliould  have  been  such  unworthy 'neglect  ;  but  we  uuist, 
at  the  same  time,  congratulate  ourselves,  when  we  consider,  that  to 
this  very  neglect,  operating  to  rouse  the  natural  indolence  of  his 
constitution,  we  owe  many  valuable  productions,  which  otherwise 
perhaps,  might  never  have  appeared. 

He  had  spent,  during  the  progress  of  the  work,  the  money  for 
'which  he  had  contracted  to  write  his  Dictionary.  AVe  have  seen 
that  the  reward  of  his  labour  was  only  fifteen  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  jjounds  ;  and  when  the  expense  of  amanuenses  and  paper,  and 
other  articles,  are  deducted,  his  clear  profit  was  very  inconsiderable. 
I  once  said  to  him,  "  I  am  sorry.  Sir,  you  did  not  get  more  for  your 
Dictionary."  His  answer  was,  "  I  am  sorry  too.  But  it  was  very 
well.  The  booksellers  are  genei'ous,  liberal-minded  men."  He, 
upon-  all  occasions,  did  ample  justice  to  their  character  in  this 
respect.  He  considered  them  as  the  patrons  of  literature  ;  and, 
indeed,  although  they  have  eventually  been  considerable  gainers  by  his 
Dictionary,  it  is  to  them  that  we  owe  its  having  been  undertaken 
and  carried  through  at  the  risk  of  great  expense,  for  they  w^ere  not 
absolutely  sure  of  being  indemnified. 

Letter  50.  TO  MISS  CARTER. 

"  Gough-Square,  14th  Jan.  1756. 

"Madam, — From' the  liberty  of  writing  to  you,  it'  I  have  hitherto  been 
deterred  from  the  fear  of  your  understanding,  I  am  now  encouraged  to  it  from 
the  contideuce  of  your  goodness. 

"  I  am  soliciting  a  benefit  for  Mi?s  Williams,'  and  beg  that  if  you  can  by  let- 
ters influence  any  in  her  favour  (and  who  is  there  whotn  you  cannot  influence?) 
you  will  be  pleased  to  patronise  her  on  this  occasion.  Yet,  for  the  time  is 
short,  and  as  you  were  not  in  town,  I  did  not  till  this  day  remember  that  you 
might  help  us,  and  recollect  how  widely  and  how  rapidly  light  is  diffused. 

"  To  every  joy  is  appended  a  sorrow.  The  name  of  Miss  Carter  introduces 
the  memory  of  Cave.  Poor  dear  Cave!  I  owed  him  much;  for  to  hiiu  I  owe 
that  I  have   known  you.     lie  died,  I  am  afraid,  unexpectedly  to  himtself,  yet 

geud  me  this  sum,  I  will  very  gratefully  repay  you,  and  add  it  to  all  former  obligations.  I 
am,  sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  Sent  six  guineas.  Witness,  William  Richardson." — Malone. 

'  In  1756,  Mr  Garrick,  ever  disposed  to  help  the  afflicted,  indulged  Miss  Williamsi  with  a 
*i«>n«(it-play,  that  produced  her  two  hundred  pounds. — Hawkins, 


248  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON,  ^'^^ 

surely  unburthcned  with  any  great  crime,  and  for  the  positive  duties  ot  religion 
I  have  yet  no  right  to  condemn  him  for  neglect. 

"  I  am,  with  respect,  which  I  neither  owe  nor  pay  to  any  other,  madam, 
your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  the  first  day  of  this  year  we  find,  from  his  private  devotions, 
that  he  had  then  recovered  from  sickness,  and  in  February  that  hia 
eye  was  restored  to  its  use.  The  pious  gratitude  with  which  ho 
acknowledges  mercies  upon  every  occasion  is  very  edifying  ;  as  is 
the  humble  submission  which  he  breathes,  when  it  is  the  will  of  his 
heavenly  Father  to  try  him  with  afflictions.  As  such  dispositions 
become  the  state  of  man  here,  and  are  the  true  effects  of  religious 
discipline,  we  cannot  but  venerate  in  Johnson  one  of  the  most  exer- 
cised minds  that  our  holy  religion  hath  ever  formed.  If  there  be 
any  thoughtless  enough  to  suppose  such  exercise  the  weakness  of  a 
great  understanding,  let  them  look  up  to  Johnson,  and  be  con- 
vinced that  what  he  so  earnestly  practised  must  have  a  rational 
foundation. 

Letter  51.  TO  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  WAKTON. 

"  15th  April,  1T66. 

"Dear  Sir, — Though,  when  you  and  your  brother  were  in  town,  you  did  not' 
think  my  humble  habitation  worth  a  visit,  yet  I  will  not  so  far  give  way  to  sul- 
lenness  as  not  to  tell  you  that  I  have  lately  seen  an  octavo  book  ^  which  I 
suspect  to  be  yours,  though  I  have  not  yet  read  above  ten  pages.  That  way 
of  pubhshing,  without  acquainting  your  friends,  is  a  wicked  trick.  However,  I 
will  not  so  far  depend  upon  a  mere  conjecture  as  to  charge  you  with  a  fraud 
which  I  cannot  prove  you  to  have  committed. 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  pleased  with  your  new  situation.' 
You  have  now  a  kind  of  royalty,  and  are  to  be  answerable  for  your  conduct 
to  posterity.  I  suppose  you  care  not  now  to  answer  a  letter,  except  there  be  a 
lucky  concurrence  of  a  post-day  with  a  holiday.  These  restraints  are  trouble- 
some for  a  time,  but  custom  makes  them  easy,  with  the  help  of  some  honour, 
and  a  great  deal  of  profit,  and  I  doubt  not  but  your  abilities  will  obtain  both. 

"  For  my  part,  I  have  not  lately  done  much.     I  have  been  ill  in  the  winter, 
and  my  eye  has  been  inflamed;  but  I  please  myself  with  the  hopes  of  doing' 
many  things  with  which  I  have  long  pleased  and  deceived  myself 

"  What  becomes  of  poor  dear  Collins  ?     I  wrote  him  a  letter  which  he  never 

>    The  first  volume  of  the   Essay  on  the  Writings  and  Genius  of  Pope  appeared  anony- 
mously, in  1756. 
9    His  appointment  of  second-master  of  Winchester  School  took  place  in  1T55 


^'^^'^■■^^-  THE    LITERARY    MAGAZINE  249 

answered.  I  suppose  writing  is  very  troublesome  to  him.  That  man  is  no 
common  loss.  The  moralists  all  talk  of  the  uncertainty  of  fortune,  and  the 
transitoriness  of  beauty ;  but  it  is  yet  more  dreadful  to  consider  that  the 
powers  of  the  mind  are  equally  liable  to  change,  that  understanding  may  make 
its  appearance  and  depart,  that  it  may  blaze  and  expire. 

"  Let  me  not  be  long  without  a  letter,  and  I  will  forgive  you  the  omission 
of  the  visit ;  and  if  you  can  tell  me  that  you  are  now  more  happy  than  before, 
you  will  give  great  pleasure  to,  dear  Sir,  your  most  aflectionate  and  most 
humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

His  works  this  year,  were  an  abstract  or  epitome,  in  octavo,  of 
his  folio  Dictionary,  and  a  few  essays  in  a  monthly  publication, 
entitled  "  The  Universal  Visiter."  Christopher  Smart,  with  whose 
unhappy  vacillation  of  mind  he  sincerely  sympathised,  was  one  of  the 
stated  undertakers  of  this  miscellany;  and  it  was  to  assist  him  that 
Johnson  sometimes  employed  his  pen.  All  the  essays  marked  with 
two  asterisls  have  been  ascribed  to  him  ;  but  I  am  confident,  from 
internal  evidence,  that  of  these,  neither  "  The  Life  of  Chaucer," 
"  Keflections  on  the  State  of  Portugal,"  nor  an  "  Essay  on  Archi- 
tecture," were  written  by  him.  I  am  equally  confident,  upon  the 
same  evidence,  that  he  wrote  "  Further  Thoughts  on  Agriculture;"! 
being  the  sequel  of  a  very  inferior  essay  on  the  same  subject,  and 
ivhich,  though  carried  on  as  if  by  the  same  hand,  is  both  in  thinking 
ind  expression  so  far  above  it,  and  so  strikingly  peculiar,  as  to  leave 
no  doubt  of  its  true  parent ;  and  that  he  also  wrote  "  A  Disserta- 
tion on  the  State  of  Literature  and  Authors,"  f  and  "A  Disserta- 
tion on  the  Epitaphs  written  by  Pope."  *  The  last  of  these,  indeed, 
he  afterwards  added  to  his  "  Idler."  Why  the  essays  truly  written 
by  him  are  marked  in  the  same  manner  with  some  which  he  did  not 
write,  I  cannot  explain  ;  but,  with  deference  to  those  who  have 
ascribed  to  him  the  three  essays  which  I  have  rejected,  they  want  all 
the  characteristical  marks  of  Johnsonian  composition. 

He  engaged  also  to  superintend  and  contribute  largely  to  another 
monthly  publication,  entitled  "  The  Literary  Magazine,  or  Uni- 
versal Review  ;"  *  the  first  number  of  which  came  out  in  May  this 
year,  '  What  were  his  emoluments  from  this  undertaking,  and  what 
other  writers  were  employed  in  it,  I  have  not  discovered.  He  con 
finued  to  write  in  it,  with  intermissions,  till  the  fifteenth  number  , 

11* 


250  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


178* 


and  I  think  that  he  never  gave  better  proofs  of  the  force,  acuteness, 
and  vivacity  of  .his  mind,  than  in  this  miscellany,  whether  we  con- 
sider his  original  essays,  or  his  reviews  of  the  works  of  others.  The 
"  Prehrainary  Address  "f  to  the  public,  is  a  proof  how  this  great 
man  could  embellish  with  the  graces  of  superior  composition,  evea 
so  trite  a  thing  as  the  plan  of  a  magazine. 

His  original  essays  are,  "  An  Introduction  to  the  Political  State  of 
Great-Britain  ;"f  "  Remarks  on  the  Militia  Bill  ;"f  "  Observations  on 
his  Britannic  Majesty's  Treaties  with  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the 
Landgrave  of  Ilesse  Cassel  ;"f  "  Observations  on  the  Present  State 
of  Affairs  j""^  and,  "  Memoirs  of  Frederick  III.  King  of  Prussia."f 
In  all  these  he  displays  extensive  political  knowledge  and  saga- 
city, expressed  with  uncommon  energy  and  perspicuity,  with- 
out any  of  those  words  which  he  sometimes  took  a  pleasure 
in  adopting,  in  imitation  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  ;  of  whose 
"  Christian  Morals  "  he  this  year  gave  an  edition,  with  his  "  Life"* 
prefixed  to  it,  which  is  one  of  Johnson's  best  biographical  perform- 
ances. In  one  instance  only  in  these  essays  has  he  indulged  his 
Brownism.  Dr.  Robertson,  the  historian,  mentioned  it  to  me,  as 
having  at  once  convinced  him  that  Johnson  was  the  author  of  the 
"  Memoirs  of  the  King  of  Prussia."  Speaking  of  the  pride  which 
the  old  King,  the  father  of  his  hero,  took  in  being  master  of  the 
tallest  regiment  in  Europe,  he  says  "  To  review  this  towering  regi- 
ment was  his  daily  pleasure  ;  and  to  perpetuate  it  was  so  much  his 
care,  that  when  he  met  a  tall  woman,  he  immediately  commanded 
one  of  his  Titanian  retinue  to  marry  her,  that  they  might  propagate 
froctriiyP  For  this  Anglo-Latian  word  proccrily,  Johnson  had,  how- 
ever, the  authority  of  Addison. 

His  reviews  are  of  the  following  books  : — "  Birch's  History  of  the 
Royal  Society  ;"f  "  Murphy's  Gray's-Inn  Journal  ;"f  "  Wartou's 
Essay  on  the  Writings  and  Genius  of  Pope,  vol.  i.  ;"f  "  Hampton's 
Translations  of  Polybius  ;"f  "  Blackwell's  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of 
Augustus  ;"f  "  Russell's  Natural  History  of  Aleppo  ;"f  "  Sir 
Isaac  Newton's  Arguments  in  Proof  of  a  Deity  ;"f  "  Bonase's  His- 
tory of  the  Isles  of  Sciily  ;""}"  "  Holme's  Experiments  on  Sleacli- 
ing  ;"-|-  "Browne's  Christian  Morals  ;"f  "Hales  on  distilling  Sea- 
Water,  Ventilators  in  Ships,  and  curing  an  ill  Taste  in  Milk  •"! 


•*TiT.  47.  THE    LITERARY   MAGAZINE.  251 

"  Lucas's  Essay  ou  Waters  f1[  "  Keith's  Catalogue  of  the  Scottish 
Bishops  ;"f  "  Browne's  History  of  Jamaica  ;"f  "  Philosophical 
Transactions,  vol.  xlix.  ;"f  "  Mrs.  Lenox's  Translation  of  Sully's 
Memoirs  ;"*  "  Miscellanies,  by  Elizabeth  Harrison  ;"f  "  Evans's 
Map  and  Account  of  the  Middle  Colonies  in  America  ;"f  "  Letters 
on  the  Case  of  Admu'al  Byng  ;"*  "  Appeal  to  the  People  concern- 
ing Admiral  Byng  ;"*  "  Hanvvay's  Eight  Days'  Journey,  and  Essay 
on  Tea  ;"  *  "  The  Cadet,  a  Military  Treatise  ;"f  "  Some  further 
Particulars  in  Relation  to  the  Case  of  Admiral  Byng,  by  a  Gentle- 
man of  Oxford  •"*  "  The  Conduct  of  the  Ministry  relating  to  the 
present  War  impartially  examined  ;"f  "  A  Free  Inquiry  into  the 
Nature  and  Origin  of  Evil."*  All  these,  from  internal  evidence, 
were  written  by  Johnson :  some  of  them  I  know  he  avowed, 
and  have. marked  them  with  an  asterisk  accordingly.  Mr.  Thomas 
Davies,  indeed,  ascribed  to  him  the  Review  of  Mr.  Burke's  "  Inquiry 
into  the  Origin  of  our  Ideas  of  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful  ;"  and 
Sir  John  Hawkins,  with  equal  discernment,  has  inserted  it  in  his 
collection  of  Johnson's  works  :  whereas  it  has  no  resemblance  to 
Johnson's  composition,  and  is  well  known  to  have  been  written  by 
Mr.  Murphy,  who  has  acknowledged  it  to  me  and  many  others. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  in  justice  to  Johnson's  political  character, 
which  has  been  misrepresented  as  abjectly  submissive  to  power,' 
that  his  "  Observations  on  the  present  State  of  Affairs,"  glow  with 
as  animated  a  spirit  of  constitutional  liberty  as  can  be  found  any- 
where.    Thus  he  begins  : — 

"  The  time  is  now  come,  in  which  every  Englishman  expects  to  be  informed 
of  the  national  affairs;  and  in  which  he  has  a  right  to  have  that  expectation 
gratified.  For,  whatever  may  be  urged  by  ministers,  or  those  whom  vanity  or 
interest  make  the  followers  of  ministers,  concerning  the  necessity  of  con- 
fidence in  our  goverlTors,  and  the  presumption  of  prying  with  profane  eyes 
into  the  recesses  of  policy,  it  is  evident  that  this  reverence  can  be  claimed 

•  Dr.  Johnson's  political  bias  is  nowhere,  that  I  know,  represented  as  having  been,  at  this 
■ia<«,  "  objectly  submissive  to  power."  On  the  contrary,  hs  was  supposed,  and  with  some 
■ustice,  to  be  adverse  to  the  reigning  house  and  its  successive  ministers.  The  charge  (which 
Mr.  Boswell  thus  ingeniously  evades)  was,  that  aftet''  the  grant  of  his  pension,  he  became 
loo  "submissive  to  power;"  but  the  truth  is,  that  in  spite  of  his  party  bias,  Johnson  waa 
always  a  friend  to  discipline  in  the  political,  as  in  the  social  world  ;  and  although  he  joined  in 
the  clamour  against  Walpole,  and  hated  George  the  Second,  his  general  disposition  was  alwayi 
to  support  the  monarchical  part  of  the  constitution  — 0. 


262  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^56. 

onlj  by  counsels  yet  unexecuted,  and  projects  suspended  in  deliberation.  But 
when  a  design  has  ended  in  miscarriage  or  success,  when  every  eye  and  every 
ear  is  witness  to  general  discontent,  or  general  satisfaction,  it  is  then  a  pro- 
per time  to  disentangle  confusion  and  illustrate  obscurity  ;  to  shew  by  what 
causes  every  event  was  produced,  and  in  what  effects  it  is  likely  to  terminate ; 
to  lay  down  with  distinct  particularity  what  rumour  always  huddles  in  general 
exclamation,  or  perplexes  by  indigested  narratives  ;  to  shew  whence  happiness 
•r  calamity  is  derived,  and  whence  it  may  be  expected  ;  and  honestly  to  lay  be- 
fore the  people  what  inquiry  can  gather  of  the  past,  and  conjecture  can  est' 
mate  of  the  future." 

Here  we  have  it  assumed  as  an  iucontroyertible  principle,  that  in 
this  country  the  people  are  the  superintendents  of  the  conduct  and 
measures  of  those  by  whom  government  is  administered  ;  of  the 
beneficial  effect  of  which  the  present  reign  afforded  an  illustrious 
example,  when  addresses  from  all  parts  of  the  kingdom  controuled 
an  audacious  attempt  to  introduce  a  new  power  subversive  of  the 
crown.'    • 

A  still  stronger  proof  of  his  patriotic  spirit  appears  in  his  review 
of  an  "  Essay  on  Waters,  by  Dr.  Lucas,"  ^  of  whom,  after  describ- 
ing him  as  a  man  well  known  to  the  world  for  his  daring  defiance  of 
power,  when  he  thought  it  exerted  on  the  side  of  wrong,  he  thus 
speaks : — 

"  The  Irish  ministers  drove  him  from  his  native  country  by  a  proclamation, 
in  which  they  charge  him  with  crimes  of  which  they  never  intended  to  be 
called  to  the  proof,  and  oppressed  him  by  methods  equally  irresistible  by  guilt 
and  innocence.  Let  the  man  thus  driven  into  exile,  for  having  been  the 
friend  of  his  country,  be  received  in  every  other  place  as  a  confessor  of 
liberty  ;  and  let  the  tools  of  power  be  taught  in  time,  that  they  may  rob,  but 
cannot  impoverish." 

Some  of  his  reviews  in  this  Magazine  are  very  short  accounts  of 
the  pieces  noticed,  and  I  mention  them  only^that  Dr,  Johnson's 
opinion  of  the  works  may  be  known  ;  but  many  of  them  are  exam- 
ples of  elaborate  criticism,  in  the  most  masterly  style.  In  his  review 
of  the  "  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  Augustus,"  he  has  the  resolution  to 

•  Mr.  Boswell  means  Mr.  Fox's  celebrated  India  Bill,  as  an  adversary  of  which  he  distin 
guished  himself  as  much  as  a  man  in  a  private  station  could  do. — C. 

*  Dr.  Lucas  was  an  apothecary  in  Dublin,  who  brought  himself  into  public  notice  and  a  high 
degree  of  popularity  by  his  writings  and  speeches  against  the  government.     He  was  elected 
representative  of  the  city  of  Dublin  in  1761  ;  and  a  marble  statue  to  ."»is  honour  is  ereoieiJ 
ibe  Roval  Exchange  of  that  city.    He  died  in  Nov.  1771. — C. 


^■r^-r-'iT.  DEFENCE    OF    TEA-DRINKING.  ::^5o 

think  aud  speak  from  his  own  mind,  regardless  of  the  cant  trans- 
mitted from  age  to  age,  in  praise  of  the  ancient  Romans.  Thus  : 
"  I  know  not  why  any  one  but  a  schoolboy  in  his  declamation  should 
whine  over  the  Commonwealth  of  Rome,  which  grew  great  only  by 
the  misery  of  the  rest  of  mankind.  The  Romans,  like  others,  as  soon 
as  they  grew  rich,  grew  corrupt ;  and  in  their  corruption  sold  the 
lives  and  freedoms  of  themselves,  and  of  one  another."  Again  : 
"  A  people,  who  while  they  were  poor  robbed  mankind  ;  aud  as 
soon  as  they  became  rich  robbed  one  another." — In  his  review  of 
the  Miscellanies  in  prose  and  verse,  published  by  Elizabeth  Harrison, 
but  written  by  many  hands,  he  gives  an  eminent  proof  at  once  of 
his  orthodoxy  and  candour. 

"  The  authors  of  the  essays  in  prose  seem  generally  to  have  imitated,  or 
tried  to  imitate,  the  copiousness  and  luxuriance  of  Mrs.  Rowe.  This,  however, 
is  not  all  their  praise  ;  they  have  laboured  to  add  to  her  brightness  of 
imagery,  her  purity  of  sentiments.  The  poets  have  had  Dr.  Watts  before  their 
eyes;  a  writer  who,  if  he  stood  not  in  the  first  class  of  genius,  compensated 
that  defect  by  a  ready  application  of  his  powers  to  the  promotion  of  piety. 
The  attempt  to  employ  the  ornaments  of  romance  in  the  decoration  of  religion 
was,  I  think,  first  made  by  Mr.  Boyle's  '  Martyrdom  of  Theodora ;'  but  Boyle's 
philosophical  studies  did  not  allow  him  time  for  the  cultivation  of  style :  and 
the  completion  of  the  great  design  was  reserved  for  Mrs.  Rowe.  Dr.  Watts 
was  one  of  the  first  who  taught  the  Dissenters  to  write  and  speak  like  other 
men,  by  showing  them  that  elegance  might  consist  with  piety.  They  would 
have  both  done  honour  to  a  better  society,  for  they  had  that  charity  which 
might  well  make  their  failings  be  forgotten,  and  with  which  the  whole 
Christian  world  wish  for  communion.  They  were  pure  from  all  the  heresies  of 
an  age,  to  which  every  opinion  is  become  a  favourite  that  the  universal  church 
has  hitherto  detested  !  This  praise  the  general  interest  of  mankind  requires  to 
be  given  to  writers  who  please  and  do  not  corrupt,  who  instruct  and  do  not 
weary.  But  to  them  all  human  eulogies  are  vain,  whom  I  beheve  applauded 
by  angels,  and  numbered  with  the  just." 

His  defence  of  tea  against  Mr.  Jonas  Hanway's  violent  attack 
upon  that  elegant  and  popular  beverage,'  shows  how  very  well  a 

'  Hauway 's  "  Essay  on  Tea  and  its  Pernicious  Consequences  "  was  appended  to  his  "  Jour* 
nal  of  Eight  Days'  Journey  from  Portsmouth  to  Kingston  upon  Thames.  In  his  review  of  this 
production,  Johnson  candidly  describes  himself  as  "  a  hardened  and  shameless  tea-drinker, 
who  has,  for  many  years,  diluted  bis  meals  with  only  the  infusion  of  this  fascinating  plant; 


254  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^56. 

man  of  genius  can  write  upon  the  slightest  subject,  when  he  writes, 
as  the  Italians  say,  con  amore :  I  suppose  no  person  ever  enjoyed 
with  more  relish  the  infusion  of  that  fragrant  leaf  than  Johnson. 
The  quantities  which  he  drank  of  it  at.  all  hours  were  so  great.,  that 
his  nerves  must  have  been  uncommonly  strong,  not  to  have  been 
extremely  relaxed  by  such  an  intemperate  use  of  it.*  He  assured 
me,  that  he  never  felt  the  least  inconvenience  from  it ;  which  is  a 
proof  that  the  fault  of  his  constitution  was  rather  a  too  great  tension 
of  fibres,  than  the  contrary.  Mr.  Hanway  wrote  an  angry  answer 
to  Johnson's  review  of  his  Essay  on  Tea,  and  Johnson,  after  a  full 
and  deliberate  pause,  made  a  reply  to  it ;  the  only  instance,  I  be- 
lieve in  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  when  he  condescended  to  oppose 
any  thing  that  was  written  against  him.  I  suppose,  when  he 
thought  of  any  of  his  little  antagonists,  he  was  ever  justly  aware  of 
the  high  sentiment  of  Ajax  in  Ovid  : 

"  Iste  tulit  pretium  jam  nunc  certarainis  hujus, 
Qui,  cum  victus  erit,  mecum  certasse  feretur."  ' 

But,  indeed,  the  good  Mr.  Hanway  laid  himself  so  open  to  ridi- 
cule, that  Johnson's  animadversions  upon  his  attack  were  chiefly  to 
make  sport. 

The  generosity  with  which  he  pleads  the  cause  of  Admiral  Byng 
is  highly  to  the  honour  of  his  heart  and  spirit.  Though  Voltaire 
affects  to  be  witty  upon  the  fate  of  that  unfortunate  officer,  observ- 
ing that  he  was  shot  ^^  pour  encourager  les  autres"  the  nation  has 
long  since  been  satisfied  that  his  life  was  sacrificed  to  the  political 
fervour  of  the  times.'  In  the  vault  belonging  to  the  Torrington 
family,  in  the  church  in  Southill,  in  Bedfordshire,  there  is  the  fol- 
lowing epitaph  upon  his  monument,  which  I  have  transcribed  : 

whose  kettle  has  scarcely  time  to  cool;  who  with  tea  amuses  the  evening,  with  tea  solaces  the 
midnights,  and  with  tea  welcomes  the  morning." 

'  Sir  John  Hawkins  calls  his  addiction  to  it  unmanly,  and  almost  gives  it  the  colour  of  a 
crime.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Parker,  of  Henley,  is  in  possession  of  a  tea-pot  which  belonged  to  Di 
Johnson,  and  which  contains  above  two  quarts. — C. 

*    "  Losing,  he  wins,  because  his  name  will  be 

Ennobled  by  defeat,  who  durst  contend  with  me." — Drtden. 
'  Nothing  can  be  more  unfounded  than  the  assertion  that  Byng  fell  a  martyr  to  poUticoi 
parU/.    See  this  subject  treated  at  large  in  the  Quarterly  Review  for  April,  1832.— C, 


***'•  *^  CASE    OF    ADMIRAL    BYNG.  255 

"  TO    THE    PERPETUAL    DISGRACK 

OF    PUBLIC    JUSTICE, 

THE      HONOURABLE      JOHN      BYNG,     ESQ. 

ADMIRAL    OF    THE    BLUE, 

FELL     A     MARTYR     TO     POLITICAL 

PERSECUTION, 

MARCH     14.      IN     THE     YEAR     1  7  5  •?  * 

WHEN  BRAVERY  AND  LOYALTY 

WERE       INSUFFICIENT       SECURITIES 

FOR  THE  LIFE  AND  HONOUR  OF 

A  NATAL  OFFICER." 

Johnson's  most  exquisite  critical  essay  in  the  Literary  Magazine, 
and  indeed  anywhere,  is  his  review  of  Soame  Jenyns's  "  Inquiry  into 
the  Origin  of  Evil."  Jenyns  was  possessed  of  lively  talents,  and  a 
style  eminently  pure  and  easy,  and  could  very  happily  play  with  a 
light  subject,  either  in  prose  or  verse  :  but  when  he  speculated  on 
that  most  difficult  and  excruciating  question,  the  Origin  of  Evil,  he 
"  ventured  far  beyond  his  depth,"  and,  accordingly,  was  exposed 
by  Johnson,  both  with  acute  argument  and  brilUant  wit.  I  remem- 
ber when  the  late  Mr.  Bicknell's  humourous  performance,  entitled 
"  The  Musical  Travels  of  Joel  Collyer,"  in  which  a  slight  attempt 
is  made  to  ridicule  Johnson,  was  ascribed  to  Soame  Jenyns,  "  Ha  ! 
(said  Johnson)  I  thought  I  had  given  him  enough  of  it." 

His  triumph  over  Jenyns  is  thus  described  by  my  friend  Mr. 
Courtenay,  in  his  "  Poetical  Eeview  of  the  literary  and  moral  cha- 
racter of  Dr.  Johnson  ;"  a  performance  of  such  merit,  that  had  I 
not  been  honoured  with  a  very  kind  and  partial  notice  in  it,  I  should 
echo  the  sentiments  of  men  of  the  first  taste  loudly  in  its  praise  : — 

"  When  specious  sophists  with  presumption  scan 
The  source  of  evil  hidden  still  from  man  ; 
Revive  Arabian  tales,  and  mainly  hope, 
To  rival  St.  John  and  his  scholar  Pope : 
Though  metaphysics  spread  the  gloom  of  night, 
By  reason's  star  he  guides  our  acking  sight ; 
The  bounds  of  knowledge  marks,  and  points  the  way, 
To  pathless  wastes,  where  wilder'd  sages  stray ; 
Where,  like  a  farthing  link-boy,  Jenyns  stands, 
And  the  dim  torch  drops  from  his  feeble  hands."' 

'  Some  time  after  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  there  appeared  in  ths  newspapers  and  magazines 
[the  following]  illiberal  and  petulant  attack  upon  him,  in  the  form  of  an  Epitaph,  under  tie 


256  LIFE    OF    JOHNSOif. 


ItM. 


This  year  Mr.  William  Payne,  brother  of  the  respectable  book- 
seller of  that  name,  published  "  An  Introduction  to  the  Game  of 
Draughts,"  to  which  Johnson  contributed  a  Dedication  to  the  Earl 
of  Rochford,*  and  a.  Preface,*  both  of  which  are  admirably 
adapted  to  the  treatise  to  which  they  are  prefixed.  Johnson,  I 
believe,  did  not  play  at  draughts  after  leaving  College,  by  which 
he  suffered  ;  for  it  would  have  afforded  him  an  innocent  soothing 
relief  from  the  melancholy  which  distressed  him  so  often.     I  have 

name  of  Mr.  Soame  Jenyns,  very  unworthy  of  that  gentleman,  who  had  quietly  submitted  to 
the  critical  lash  while  Johnson  lived.  It  assumeil,  as  charactenstics  of  him,  all  the  vuJgat 
circumstances  of  abuse  which  had  circulated  amongst  the  ignorant — 

["  Here  lies  poor  Johnson.    Reader,  have  a  care, 
Tread  lightly,  lest  you  rouse  a  sleeping  bear; 
Religious,  moral,  generous,  and  humane 
He  was — but  self-sufficient,  rude,  and  vain  : 
Ill-bred  and  overbearing  in  dispute, 
A  scholar  and  a  Christian — yet  a  brute. 
Would  you  know  all  his  wisdom  and  his  folly, 
His  actions,  sayings,  mirth,  and  melancholy, 
Boswell  and  Thrale,  retailers  of  his  wit, 
Will  tell  you  how  he  wrote,  and  talk'd,  and  cough'd,  and  spit." 

Gent.  Mag.  1786] 

This  was  an  unbecoming  indulgence  of  puny  resentment,  at  a  time  when  he  himself  was  at 
a  very  advanced  age,  and  had  a  near  prospect  of  descending  to  the  grave.  I  was  truly  sorry 
for  it ;  for  he  was  then  become  an  avowed  and  (as  my  Lord  Bishop  of  London,  who  had  a 
serious  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject,  assures  me)  a  sincere  Christian.  He  could  not 
expect  that  Johnson's  numerous  friends  would  patiently  bear  to  have  the  memory  of  their 
master  stigmatized  by  no  mean  pen,  but  that,  at  least,  one  would  be  found  to  retort.  Accord- 
ingly, this  unjust  and  sarcastic  epitaph  was  met  in  the  same  public  field  by  an  answer,  in 
terms  by  no  means  soft,  and  such  as  wanton  provocation  only  could  justify  : — 

"  EPITAPH 

"Prepared  /or  a  creature  not  quite  dead  yet. 

"  Here  lies  a  little  ugly  nauseous  elf, 
'  W^ho,  judging  only  from  its  wretched  self, 

Feebly  attempted,  petulant  and  vain, 
The  '  Origin  of  Evil '  to  explain. 
A  mighty  Genius,  at  this  elf  displeased. 
With  a  strong  critic  grasp  the  urchin  Squeezed. 
For  thirty  years  its  coward  spleen  it  kept. 
Till  iij  the  dust  the  miglity  Genius  slept ; 
Then  stunk  and  fretted  in  expiring  snuff, 
And  blink'd  at  Johnson  with  its  last  poor  puff." — Boswell 

The  answer  was,  no  doubt,  by  Mr.  Boswell  himself,  and  does  more  credit  to  his  zeal  th»n 
bis  poetical  talents. — C— [Soame  Jenyns  died  in  17ST.] 


*TAT.  4T  MISCELLANIES.  257 

lieard  liiin  regret  that  he  bad  not  learot  to  plar  at  cards  ;  aud  the 
game  of  draughts  we  know  is  peculiarly  calculated  to  fix  the  at« 
tention  without  straining  it.  There  is  a  composure  and  gravity  iu 
draughts  which  insensibly  tranquillises  the  mind  ;  and,  accordingly, 
the  Dutch  are  fond  of  it,  as  they  are  of  smoking,  of  the  sedative 
influence  of  which,  though  he  himself  never  smoked,  he  had  a  high 
opinion  *  Besides,  there  is  in  draughts  some  exercise  of  the  facul- 
ties ;  aud  accordingly,  Johnson,  wishing  to  dignify  the  suljject  in 
his  Dedication  with  what  is  most  estimable  in  it,  observes,  "  Triflers 
may  find  or  make  anything  a  trifle  :  but  since  it  is  the  great  cha- 
racteristic of  a  wise  man  to  see  events  in  their  causes,  to  obviate 
consequences,  and  ascertain  contingencies,  your  lordship  will  think 
nothing  a  trifle  by  which  the  mind  is  inured  to  caution,  foresight, 
and  circumspection." 

As  one  of  the  little  occasional  advantages  which  he  did  not  dis- 
dain to  take  by  his  pen,  as  a  man  whose  profession  was  literature, 
he  this  year  accepted  of  a  guinea  from  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  for 
writing  the  Introduction  to  "  The  London  Chronicle,"  an  evening 
newspaper  ;  and  even  in  so  slight  a  performance  exhibited  peculiar 
talents.  This  Chronicle  still  subsists,^  and  from  what  I  observed, 
when  I  was  abroad,  has  a  more  extensive  circulation  upon  the  Con- 
tinent than  any  of  the  English  newspapers.  It  was  constantly  read 
by  Johnson  himself ;  aud  it  is  but  just  to  observe,  that  it  has  all 
along  been  distinguished  for  good  sense,  accuracy,  moderation,  and 
delicacy. 

Another  instance  of  the  same  nature  has  been  communicated  to 
me  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Thomas  Campbell,  who  has  done  himself 
considerable  credit  by  his  own  writings.  "  Sitting  with  Dr.  John- 
son one  morning  alone,  he  asked  me  if  I  had  known  Dr.  Madden, 
who  was  author  of  the  premium-scheme  in  Ireland.  On  my  answer- 
ing in  the  affirmative,  and  also  that  I  had  for  some  years  lived  in 
his  neighbourhood,  &c.,  he  begged  of  me  that  when  I  returned  to 
Ireland,  I  would  endeavour  to  procure  for  him  a  poem  of  Dr.  Mad- 

1  See  post,  August  19, 1778.  I  have  heard  Johnson  say,  that  insanity  had  grown  mor« 
frequent  since  smoking  iiad  gone  out  of  fashion. — Hawkins. 

'  The  London  Chronicle,  or  Universal  Evening  Post,  was  published  three  times  a  week 
The  first  number,  containing  Johnson's  Introduction,  appeared  Jan  1,  1757.  Mr.  Boswell 
often  wrote  in  this  journal. 


258  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1?S6. 

den's  called  '  Boulter's  Monumeut.' '  '  The  reason,'  said  he,  '  why  I 
wish  for  it,  is  this  :  when  Dr.  Madden  came  to  London,  he  submit- 
ted that  work  to  my  castigation  ;  and  I  remember  I  blotted  a  great 
many  lines,  and  might  have  blotted  many  more  without  making  the 
poem  worse.  However,  the  Doctor  was  very  thankful,  and  very 
generous,  for  he. gave  me  ten  guineas,  which  loas  to  me  at  that  time  a 
great  sum.^ "  ^ 

He  this  year  resumed  his  scheme  of  giving  an  edition  of  Shak 
speare  with  notes.  He  issued  Proposals  of  considerable  length,"  in 
which  he  shewed  that  he  perfectly  well  kne^r  what  a  variety  of  re- 
search such  an  undertaking  required  ;  but  his  indolence  prevented 
him  from  pursuing  it  with  that  diligence  which  alone  can  collect 
those  scattered  facts,  that  genius,  however  acute,  penetrating,  and 
luminous,  cannot  discover  by  its  own  force.  It  is  remarkable,  that 
at  this  time  his  fancied  activity  was  for  the  moment  so  vigorous, 
that  he  promised  his  work  should  be  published  before  Christmas, 
115*1.  Yet  nine  years  elapsed  before  it  saw  the  light.  His  throes 
in  bringing  it  forth  had  been  severe  and  remittent  ;  and  at  last  we 
may  almost  conclude  that  the  Caesarian  operation  was  performed  by 
the  knife  of  Churchill,  whose  upbraiding  satire,  I  dare  say,  made 
Johnson's  friends  urge  him  to  dispatch. 

"  He  for  subscribers  baits  his  hook, 
And  talces  your  cash ;  but  where's  the  book  ? 
No  matter  where  ;  wise  fear,  you  know, 
Forbids  the  robbing  of  a  foe  ; 

-  Dr.  Hugh  Boulter,  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  and  Primate  of  Ireland.  He  died  Sept.  27, 
.742,  at  which  time  he  was,  for  the  thirteenth  time,  one  of  the  Lords  Justices  of  tliat  kingdom. 
Jojinson  speaks  of  him  in  high  terms  of  commendation,  in  his  Life  of  Ambrose  Philips. — • 

J.  BOSWELL,  Jun. 

^  Such  casual  emoluments  as  these,  Johnson  frequently  derived  from  his  profession  of  ac 
author.  For  the  dedication  to  his  present  Majesty,  of  Adams's  book  on  the  use  of  the  globes, 
he  was,  as  himself  informed  me,  gratified  with  a  present  of  a  very  curious  meteorological  in- 
Btrument,  of  a  new  and  ingenious  construction.  About  this  time,  as  it  is  supposed,  for  sun- 
dry beneficed  clergymen  that  requested  him,  he  composed  pulpit  discourses,  and  for  these,  he 
made  no  scruple  of  confessing,  he  was  paid  :  his  price,  I  am  informed,  was  a  moderate  one — 
a  guinea  ;  and  such  was  his  notion  of  justice,  that  having  been  paid,  he  considered  them  so 
absolutely  the  property  of  the  purchaser,  as  to  renounce  all  claim  to  them.  He  reckoned  that 
he  had  written  about  forty  sermons  ;  but,  except  as  to  some,  knew  not  in  what  hands  they 
were  ;  "  I  have,"  said  he,  "  been  paid  for  them,  and  have  no  right  to  inquire  about  them."— 
Hawkins. 

'  They  have  been  reprinted  by  Mr.  Malone,  in  the  Preface  to  his  edition  of  Shaksneare. 


*^*'^-  IS.  LETTEPv    TO    MU.    o'oONNOR.  259 

But  what,  to  serve  our  private  ends, 
Forbids  the  cheating  of  our  friends?" 

About  this  period  he  was  offered  a  living  of  considerable  value  in 
Lincolnshire,  if  he  were  inclined  to  enter  into  holy  orders.  It  was 
a  rectory  in  the  gift  of  Mr.  Langton,  the  father  of  his  much  valued 
friend.  But  he  did  not  accept  of  it;  partly,  I  believe,  from  a  consci- 
entious motive,  being  persuaded  that  his  temper  and  habits  rendered 
him  unfit  for  that  assiduous  and  familiar  instruction  of  the  vulgar 
and  ignorant,  which  he  held  to  be  an  essential  duty  in  a  clergyman ; 
and  partly  because'  his  love  of  a  London  Ufe  was  so  strong,  that  he 
would  have  thought  himself  an  exile  in  any  other  place,  particularly 
if  residing  in  the  country.  Whoever  would  wish  to  see  his  thoughts 
upon  that  subject  displayed  iu  their  full  force,  may  peruse  the  Ad- 
venturer, No.  12G. 

In  n51  it  dffes  not  appear  that  he  published  anything,  except 
some  of  those  articles  in  the  Literary  Magazine,  which  have  been 
mentioned.  That  Magazine,  after  Johnson  ceased  to  write  in  it, 
gradually  declined,  though  the  popular  epithet  of  Antigallican  was 
added  to  it,  and  in  July,  1758,  it  expired.  He  probably  prepared 
a  part  of  his  Shakspeare  this  year,  and  he  dictated  a  speech  on  the 
subject  of  an  address  to  the  Throne,  after  the  expedition  to  Roch- 
fort,  which  was  delivered  by  one  of  his  friends,  I  know  not  in  what 
public  meeting.  It  is  printed  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for 
October,  1185,  as  his,  and  bears  sufficient  marks  of  authenticity. 

By  the  favour  of  Mr.  Joseph  Cooper  Walker,  of  the  Treasury,  Dub- 
lin, I  have  obtained  a  copy  of  the  following  letter  from  Johnson  to 
the  venerable  author  of  "  Dissertations  on  the  History  of  Ireland." 

Letter  52.  TO  CHARLES  O'CONNOR,  ESQ. 

"  London,  April  9, 1T57. 

"  Sir, — I  have  lately,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  Faulkner,  seen  your  account  of 
Ireland,  and  cannot  forbear  to  solicit  a  prosecution  of  your  design.  Sir  Wil« 
liani  Temple  complains  that  Ireland  is  less  known  than  any  other  country,  as 
to  its  ancient  state.  The  natives  have  had  little  leisure,  and  httle  encourage- 
ment for  inquiry  ;  and  strangers,  not  knowing  the  language,  have  had  no 
ability. 

"  I  have  long  wished  that  the  Irish  literature  were  cultivated.  Ireland  us 
kuown  by  tradition  to  have  been  once  the  seat  of  piety  and  learning ;  acd 


2^0  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

surely  it  would  be  very  acceptable  to  all  those  who  are  curious  either  m  the 
original  of  nations,  or  the  affinities  of  languages,  to  be  further  informed  of  the 
revolution  of  a  people  so  ancient,  and  once  so  illustrious. 

"  What  relation  there  is  between  the  Welsh  and  Irish  language,  or  between 
the  language  of  Ireland  and  that  of  Biscay,  deserves  inquiry.  Of  these  provin- 
cial and  unextended  tongues,  it  seldom  happens  that  more  than  one  are 
understood  by  any  one  man  ;  and,  therefore,  it  seldom  happens  that  a  fair 
comparison  can  be  made.  I  hope  you  will  continue  to  cultivate  this  kind  of 
learning,  which  has  too  long  lain  neglected,  and  which,  if  it  be  suffered  to 
remain  in  oblivion  for  another  century,  may,  perhaps,  never  be  retrieved.  As 
I  wish  well  to  all  useful  undertakings,  I  would  not  forbear  to  let  you  know 
how  much  you  deserve,  in  my  opinion,  from  all  lovers  of  study,  and  how  much 
pleasure  your  work  has  given  to,  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble 
servant,  "Sam,  Johnson." 

Letter  53.  TO  THE  REV.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"  [London,]  June  21, 175T. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Dr.  Marsili,  of  Padua,  a  learned  gentleman,  and  good  Latin 
poet,  has  a  mind  to  see  Oxford.  I  have  given  him  a  letter  to  Dr.  Huddesford, 
and  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  introduce  him,  and  show  him  anything  in  Oxford. 

"  I  am  printing  my  new  edition  of  Shakspeare. 

"  I  long  to  see  you  all,  but  cannot  conveniently  come  yet.  You  might 
write  to  me  now  and  then,  if  you  were  good  for  anything.  But  honores  miUant 
mores.  Professors  forget  their  friends.  I  shall  certainly  complain  to  Miss 
Jones.'    I  am,  your,  &c.,  "Sam.  Johnson." 

"  Please  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Wise." 

Mr.  Barney  having  enclosed  to  him  an  extract  from  the  review  ot 
his  Dictionary  in  the  Bibliotheque  des  Savans  [t.  iii.  p.  482.]  and  a 
list  of  subscribers  to  his  Shakspeare,  which  Mr.  Burney  had  jirocured 
in  Norfolk,  he  wrote  the  following  answer  : — 

Letter  54.  TO    MR.    BURNEY. 

In  Lynne,  Nwfolk. 

"  Gough  Square,  December  24, 1757. 

"  Sir, — That  I  may  show  myself  sensible  of  your  favours,  and  not  commit 

the  same    fault  a  second  time,  I  make  haste    to  answer  the  letter  which  I 

received  this  morning.     The  truth  is,  the  other  likewise  was  received,  and  I 

wrote  an  answer ;  but  being  desirous  to  transmit  you  some  proposals  and  re- 

'  Miss  Jones  lived  at  Oxford,  was  often  of  our  parties.  She  was  a  very  ingenious 
poetess,  and  published  a  volume  of  poems  ;  and  on  the  whole  was  a  most  sensible,  agreeable, 
and  amiable  woman.    She  was  sister  to  the  Rev.  River  Jones,  Chanter  of  Christ  Church  Cathe- 


^'-^^-^  LETTER    TO    LANGTON  261 

ceipts,  I  waited  till  I  could  find  a  convenient  conveyance,  and  daj  was  p^-ssed 
after  day,  till  other  things  drove  it  from  my  thoughts ;  yet  not  so,  but  that  I 
remember  with  great  pleasure  your  commendation  of  my  Dictionary.  Your 
praise  was  welcome,  not  only  because  I  believe  it  was  sincere,  but  because 
praise  has  been  very  scarce.  A  man  of  your  candour  will  be  surprised  when  I 
tell  you,  that  among  all  my  acquaintance  there  were  only  two,  who  upon  tho 
publication  of  my  book  did  not  endeavour  to  depress  me  with  threats  of  censuro 
from  the  public,  or  with  objections  learned  from  those  who  had  learned  them 
from  my  own  preface.  Yours  is  the  only  letter  of  good-will  that  I  have  re- 
ceived ;  though,  indeed,  I  am  promised  something  of  that  sort  from  Sweden. 

"How  my  new  edition'  will  be  received  I  know  not;  the  subscription  has 
not  been  very  successful.     I  shall  publish  about  March. 

"  If  you  can  direct  me  how  to  send  proposals,  I  should  wish  that  they  were 
in  such  hands. 

"  I  remember.  Sir,  in  some  of  the  first  letters  with  which  you  favoured  me, 
you  mentioned  your  lady.  May  I  inquire  after  her  ?  In  return  for  the  favoura 
which  you  have  shown  me,  it  is  not  much  to  tell  you,  that  I  wish  you  and  her 
all  that  can  conduce  to  your  happiness.  I  am,  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and 
most  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  1158  we  find  Mm,  it  should  seem,  in  as  easy  and  pleasant  a 
state  of  existence,  as  constitutional  unhappiness  ever  permitted  him 
to  enjoy. 

Letter  55.  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,  ESQ. 

At  Langton. 

"  Jan.  9,  1758." 
*  Dearest  Sir, — I  must  have  indeed  slept  very  fast,  not  to  have  been 
awakened  by  your  letter.  None  of  your  suspicions  are  true ;  I  am  not  much 
richer  than  when  you  left  me ;  and  what  is  worse,  my  omission  of  an  answer 
to  your  first  letter  will  prove  that  I  am  not  much  wiser.  But  I  go  on  as  I 
formerly  did,  designing  to  be  some  time  or  other  both  rich  and  wise ;  and  yet 
cultivate  neither  mind  nor  fortune.  Do  you  take  notice  of  my  example,  and 
learn  the  danger  of  delay.  When  I  was  as  you  are  now,  towering  in  [the]  con- 
fidence of  twenty-one,  little  did  I  suspect  that  I  should  be,  at  forty-nine,  what 
I  now  am.^ 

dral  at  Oxford,  and  Johnson  used  to  call  her  the  Chantreas.  I  have  heard  him  often  address 
her  In  this  passage  from  "II  Penseroso:" — 

"  Thee,  Chantress,  oft  the  woods  among 
I  woo,"  Ac. 

She  died  unmarried. — ^Wakton. 
1  Of  Shakspeare. 
'  If  the  reader  will  look  back  to  Johnson's  deplorable  situation  when  he  was  about  the  agn 


262  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "**• 

"But  you  do  not  seem  to  need  my  admonition.  You  are  busy  in  acquiring 
and  in  communicating  knowledge,  and  while  you  are  studying,  enjoy  the  end 
of  study,  by  making  others  wiser  and  happier.  I  was  much  pleased  with  the 
tale  that  you  told  me  of  being  tutor  to  your  sisters.  I,  who  have  no  sisters 
nor  brothers,  look  with  sonve  degree  of  innocent  envy  on  those  who  may  be 
said  to  be  born  to  friends ; '  and  cannot  see,  without  wonder,  how  rarely  that 
native  union  is  afterwards  regarded.  It  sometimes,  indeed,  happens,  that 
some  supervenient  cause  of  discord  may  overpower  this  original  amity  ;  but-it 
seems  to  me  more  frequently  thrown  away  with  levity,  or  lost  by  negligence, 
than  destroyed  by  injury  or  violence.  We  tell  the  ladies  that  good  wives 
make  good  husbands ;  I  believe  it  is  a  more  certain  position  that  good  brothers 
make  good  sisters. 

"I  am  satisfied  with  your  stay  at  home,  as  Juvenal  with  his  friend's  retire- 
ment to  Cunue  :  I  know  tiiat  your  absence  is  best,  though  it  be  not  best  for 
me. 

'  Quamvis  digressu  veteris  confusus  amici, 
Laudo  tamen  vacuis  quod  sedem  figere  Cumis 
Dcstinet,  atque  unum  civemdonarc  Sibylla3.'* 

"  Langton  is  a  good  Cumae,  but  who  must  be  Sibylla  ?  Mrs.  Langtou  is  as 
wise  as  Sibyl,  and  as  good ;  and  will  live,  if  my  wishes  can  prolong  life,  till  she 
shall  in  time  be  as  old.  But  she  differs  in  this,  that  she  has  not  scattered  her 
precepts  in  the  wind,  at  least  not  those  which  she  bestowed  upon  you. 

"  The  two  Warton's  just  looked  into  town,  and  were  taken  to  see  Clcone, 
where,  David  [Garrick]  says,  they  were  starved  for  want  of  company  to  keep 
them  warm.     David  and  Doddy'  have  had  a  new  quarrel,  and,  I  tliink,  cannot 

of  twenty-one,  he  will  be  inclined  to  think  that  he  might  rather  have  prided  himself  at  having 
attained  to  the  station  which  he  now  held  in  society  — Croker.  Was  not  Johnson  alluding 
not  to  his  comparative  "station  in  society,"  but  to  his  not  being  "  much  richer?"  for  in  this 
letter  he  says,  "I  have  left  off  housekeeping." — M.\rkland. 

-  Gibbon,  in  his  Memoirs,  alludes  to  this  subject  with  good  taste  and  feeling  : — "  F"-om  my 
childhood  to  the  present  hour,  I  have  deeply  and  sincerely  regretted  my  sister,  whose  life  was 
somewhat  prolonged,  and  whom  I  remember  to  have  seen  an  amiable  infant.  The  roiatiou  of 
a  brother  and  a  sister,  particularly  if  they  do  not  marry,  appears  to  me  of  a  very  singular 
nature.  It  is  a  familiar  and  tender  friendship  with  a  female  much  about  our  own  age  ;  an 
affection  perhaps  softened  by  the  secret  influence  of  the  sex,  but  pure  from  any  mbctuie  of 
sensual  desire— the  sole  specie.s  of  Platonic  love  that  can  be  indulged  with  truth  and  without 
ilanger."^Mem  ,  p.  25. — Croker. 

*  ["  Grieved  though  I  am  to  see  the  man  depart, 

Who  long  has  shared,  and  still  must  share  my  heart. 

Yet  (when  I  call  my  better  judgment  home) 

1  praise  his  purpose  ;  to  retire  from  Rome 

And  give  on  Cumse's  solitary  coast, 

The  Sibyl — one  inhabitant  to  boast  1" — Qiffobd.] 

•  Hr.  Dodsley,  the  author  of  Cleone. 


*^^''-  4^-  OR.   CflARLES   BURNEY.  263 

conveniently  quarrel  any  more.  '  Cleqne '  was  well  acted  by  all  the  charac- 
ters, but  Bellamy  *  left  nothing  to  be  desired.  I  went  the  first  night,  and  sup- 
ported  it  as  well  as  I  might  ;  for  Doddy,  you  know,  is  my  patron,  and  I  would 
not  desert  him.  The  play  was  very  well  received.  Doddy,  after  the  danger 
was  over,  went  every  night  to  the  stage-side,  and  cried  at  the  distress  of  poor 
Cleone. 

"  I  have  left  off  housekeeping,  and  therefore  made  presents  of  the  game 
which  you  were  pleased  to  send  me.  The  pheasant  I  gave  to  Mr.  Richardson,* 
the  bustard  to  Dr.  Lawrence,  and  the  pot  I  placed  with  Miss  Williams,  to  be 
eaten  by  myself.  She  desires  that  her  compliments  and  good  wishes  may  be 
accepted  by  the  family  ;  and  I  make  the  same  request  for  myself. 

"  Mr.  Reynolds  has  within  these  few  days  raised  his  price  to  twenty  guineas 
a  head,^  and  Miss  ^  is  much  employed  in  miniatures.  I  know  not  anybody 
[else]  whose  prosperity  has  increased  since  you  left  them. 

"  Murphy  is  to  have  his  '  Orphan  of  China'  acted  next  month  ;  and  is  there- 
fore, I  suppose,  happy.  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  of  any  great  good  to  which  I 
was  approaching,  but  at  present  my  prospects  do  not  much  delight  me  ;  how- 
ever, I  am  always  pleased  when  I  find  that  you,  dear  sir,  remember  your  affec- 
tionate, humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson  " 

Lbttek  56.  TOMR.    BURNEY. 

At  Lynne,  Norfolk.  * 

"  London,  March  1,  1758. 

"Sir, — Your  kindness  is  so  great,  and  my  claim  to  any  particular  regard 
from  you  so  little,  that  I  am  at  a  loss  how  to  express  my  sense  of  your  favours  ;' 
but  I  am,  indeed,  much  pleased  to  be  thus  distinguished  by  you. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  tell  you  that  my  Shakspeare  will  not  be  out  so  soon  as  I 
promised  my  subscribers ;  but  I  did  not  promise  them  more  than  I  promised 
myself.     It  will,  however,  be  pubUshed  before  summer. 

"  I  have  sent  you  a  bundle  of  proposals,  which,  I  think,  do  not  profess  more 
than  I  have  hitherto  performed.     I  have  printed  many  of  the  plays,  and  have 

1  The  well-known  Miss  George  Ann  Bellamy,  who  played  the  heroine. — C.  [An  Apology 
for  her  very  irregular  Life,  written  bo  Herself,  in  six  volumes,  was  published  in  1785] 

*  The  authoress  of  Clarissa. 

^  Sir  Joshua  afterwards  greatly  advanced  his  price.  I  have  been  informed  by  Sir  Thomas 
iawrence,  his  admirer  and  rival,  that  in  1787  his  prices  were,  two  hundred  guineas  for  tha 
vjhole  length ,  one  hundred  for  the  half-length,  seventy  for  the  kit-cat,  and  fifty  for  (what  a 
called)  the  three-quarters.  But  even  on  these  prices  some  increase  must  have  been  made,  as 
Horace  Walpole  said,  "  Sir  Joshua,  in  his  old  age,  becomes  avaricious.  He  had  one  thousand 
guineas  for  my  picture  of  the  three  ladies  Waldegrave." — 'WalpoUana.  This  picture  are 
half-lengths  of  the  three  ladies  on  one  canvas. — C. 

*  Miss  Reynolds,  the  sister  of  Sir  Joshua— C. 

^  This  letter  was  written  in  answer  to  one,  in  which  was  enclosed  a  draft  for  the  payment  of 
•ome  subscriptions  to  his  Shakspeare. 


264  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  1'^** 

hitherto  left  very  icw  passages  unexplained ;  where  I  am  quite  at  loss,  1  confess 
my  ignorance,  which  is  seldom  done  by  commentators. 

"  I  have,  likewise,  encIo3ed  twelve  receipts ;  not  that  I  mean  to  impose  upon 
you  the  trouble  of  pushing  them  with  more  importunity  than  may  seem  proper, 
but  that  you  may  rather  have  more  than  fewer  than  you  shall  want.  The  pro- 
posals you  will  disseminate  as  there  shall  be  an  opportunity.  I  once  printed 
them  at  length  in  the  Chronicle,  and  some  of  my  friends  (I  believe  Mr.  Mur- 
phy, who  formerly  wrote  the  Gray's-Inn  Journal)  introduced  them  with  a 
splendid  encomium. 

"  Since  the  Life  of  Browne,  I  have  been  a  little  engaged,  from  time  to  time, 
in  the  Literary  Magazine,  but  not  very  lately.  I  have  not  the  collection  by 
me,  and  therefore  cannot  draw  out  a  catalogue  of  my  own  parts,  but  will  do  it, 
and  send  it.  Do  not  buy  them,  for  I  will  gather  all  those  that  have  anything 
of  mine  in  them,  and  send  them  to  Mrs.  Burney,  as  a  small  token  of  gratitude 
for  the  regard  which  she  is  pleased  to  bestow  upon  me. 

"  I  am.  Sir,  your  most  obliged,  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Dr.  Burney  has  kindly  favoured  me  with  the  following  memoran- 
dum, wnich  I  take  the  liberty  to  insert  in  his  own  genuine  easy 
style.  I  love  to  exhibit  sketches  of  my  illustrious  friend  by  various 
eminent  hands. 

"  Soon  after  this,  Mr.  Burney,  during  a  visit  to  the  capital,  had  an  interview 
with  him  in  Gough  Square,  where  he  dined  and  drank  tea  with  him,  and  was 
introduced  to  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Willianis.  After  dinner,  Mr.  Johnson 
proposed  to  Mr.  Burney  to  go  up  with  him  into  his  garret,  which  being  ac- 
cepted, he  there  found  about  five  or  six  Greek  folios,  a  deal  writing-desk,  and 
a  chair  and  a  half  Johnson  giving  to  his  guest  the  entire  seat,  tottered  him- 
self on  one  with  only  ttiree  legs  and  one  arm.  Here  he  gave  Mr.  Burney  Mrs. 
Williams's  history,  and  showed  him  some  volumes  of  his  ^lakspeare  already 
printed,  to  prove  that  he  was  in  earnest.  Upon  Mr.  Burney's  opening  the  first 
volume,  at 'the  Merchant  of  Venice,  he  observed  to  him  that  he  seemed  to  be 
more  severe  on  Warburton  than  Theobald.  '  0  poor  Tib. !  (said  Johnson)  he 
was  ready  knocked  down  to  my  hands;  Warburton  stands  between  me  and 
him.'  '  But,  Sir,  (said  Mr.  Burney,)  you'll  have  Warburton  upon  your  bones, 
won't  you  ?'  '  No,  Sir ;  he'll  not  come  out :  he'll  only  growl  in  his  den.'  '  But 
you  think.  Sir,  that  Warburton  is  a  superior  critic  to  Theobald  ?'  '  0,  Sir,  he'd 
made  two-and-fifty  Theobalds,  cut  into  slices !  The  worst  of  Warburton  is, 
that  he  has  a  rage  for  saying  something,  when  there's  nothing  to  be  said.'  Mr 
Burney  then  asked  him  whether  he  had  seen  the  letter  which  Warburton  had 
written  in  answer  to  a  pamphlet,  addressed  '  To  the  most  impudent  man  alive.' 
He  answered  in  the  negative.     Mr.  Burney  told  him  it  was  supposed  to  be 


^■^^■^■•^9.  l^HE    IDLER.  265 

written  by  Mallet.  The  controversy  now  raged  between  the  friends  of  Pope 
and  Bohngbroke ;  and  Warburton  and  Mallet  were  the  leaders  of  the  several 
parties.  Mr.  Burney  asked  him  then  if  he  had  seen  Warburton's  book  against 
Bolingbroke's  Philosophy  ?  'No,  sir;  I  have  never  read  Bolingbroke's  impi- 
ety, and  therefore  am  not  interested  about  its  confutation.'  " 

On  the  fifteenth  of  April  he  began  a  new  periodical  paper,  en- 
titled "  The  Idler,"*  which  came  out  every  Saturday  in  a  weekly 
newspaper,  called  "  The  Universal  Chronicle,  or  weekly  Gazette," 
published  by  Newbery.'  These  essays  were  continued  till  April 
5,  1*160.  Of  one  hundred  and  three,  their  total  number,  twelve 
were  contributed  by  his  friends  ;  of  which,  Nos.  33,  93,  and  96, 
were  written  by  Mr.  Thomas  Warton  ;  No.  67,  by  Mr.  Langton  ; 
and  Nos.  16,  79,  and  82,  by  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  ;  the  concluding 
words  of  No.  82, — "and  pollute  his  canvas  with  deformity,"  — 
being  added  by  Johnson,  as  Sir  Joshua  informed  me." 

1  This  is  a  sHght  mistake.  The  first  number  of  "  The  Idler"  appeared  on  the  15th  of  April, 
1758,  in  No.  2  of  the  Universal  Chronicle,  &c.,  which  was  published  by  J.  Payne,  for  whom 
also  the  Rambler  had  been  printed.  On  the  29th  of  April  this  newspaper  assumed  the  title  of 
"  Payne's  Universal  Chronicle,"  &c. — M. 

^  About  the  year  1756,  time  had  produced  a  change  in  the  situation  of  many  of  Johnson's 
friends,  who  were  used  to  meet  him  in  Ivy  Lane.  Death  had  taken  from  them  M'Ghie ; 
Barker  went  to  settle  as  a  practising  physician  in  Trowbridge  ;  Dyer  went  abroad  ;  Hawkea- 
worth  was  busied  in  forming  new  connections  :  and  I  liad  lately  made  one  that  removed  from 
me  all  temptations  to  pass  my  evenings  from  home.  The  consequence  was,  that  our  sympo- 
sium at  the  King's  Head  broke  up,  and  he  who  had  first  formed  it  into  a  society  was  left  with 
fewer  around  him  than  were  able  to  support  it.  All  this  while,  the  booksellers,  who,  by  hi» 
own  confession,  were  his  best  friends,  had  their  eyes  upon  Johnson,  and  reflected  with  some 
concern  on  what  seemed  to  them  a  misapplication  of  his  talents.  The  furnishing  magazines, 
reviews,  and  even  newspapers,  with  literary  intelligence,  and  the  authors  of  books,  who  could 
not  write  them  for  themselves,  with  dedications  and  prefaces,  they  looked  on  as  employmenta 
beneath  him,  who  had  attained  to  such  eminence  as  a  writer;  they,  therefore,  in  the  year 
175G,  found  out  for  him  such  a  one  as  seemed  to  afford  a  prospect  both  of  amusement  and  pro- 
fit :  this  was  an  edition  of  Shakspeare's  dramatic  works,  which,  by  a  concurrence  of  circum- 
stances, was  now  become  necessary,  to  answer  the  increasing  demand  of  the  public.  A 
stranger  to  Johnson's  character  and  temper  would  have  thought,  that  the  study  of  an  author, 
whose  skill  in  the  science  of  human  life  was  so  deep,  and  whose  perfections  were  so  many 
and  various  as  to  be  above  the  reach  of  all  praise,  must  have  been  the  most  pleasing  employ- 
ment that  his  imagination  could  suggest,  but  it  was  not  so :  in  a  visit  that  he  one  morning 
made  to  me,  I  congi-atulated  him  on  his  being  now  engaged  in  a  work  that  suited  his  genius, 
and  that,  requiring  none  of  that  severe  application  which  his  Dictionary  had  condemned  him 
to,  would,  no  doubt,  be  executed  con  amove.  His  answer  was,  "  I  look  upon  this  as  I  did 
upon  the  Dictionary :  it  is  all  work,  and  my  inducement  to  it  is  not  love  or  desire  of  fame,  but 
the  want  of  money,  which  is  the  only  motive  to  writing  that  I  know  of." — And  the  event  was 
evidence  to  me,  that  in  this  speech  he  declared  his  genuine  sentiments  ;  for  neither  did  he  set 
himself  to  collect  early  editions  of  his  author,  old  plays,  translations  of  histories,  and  of  the 
classics,  and  other  materials  necessary  for  his  purpose,  nor  could  he  be  prevailed  on  to  ente* 

VOL.    I.  12 


266  tlFE   OP  JOHKSON.  •    I'W' 

Into  that  course  of  reading,  without  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  cotne  at  the  senee  of  his 
auther.  It  was  provoking  to  all  his  friends  to  see  him  waste  his  days,  his  weeks,  and  hia 
months  so  long,  that  they  feared  a  mental  lethargy  had  seized  him,  out  of  which  he  would 
never  recover.  In  this,  however,  they  were  happily  deceived,  for,  after  two  years'  inactivity, 
they  find  him  roused  to  action^and  engaged,  not  in  the  prosecution  of  the  work,  for  the 
completion  whereof  he  stood  doubly  bound,  but — in  a  new  one,  the  furnishing  a  series  of 
periodical  essays,  entitled,  and  it  may  be  thought  not  improperly,  "  The  Idlbr,"  as  bif 
motive  to  the  employment  was  aversion  to  a  labour  he  had  undertaken,  though  in  the  exeov 
Uoo,  It  n^ust  be  owned,  it  merited  a  better  name. — Uawkuis 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

1758—1^59. 

The  Idler — Letters  to  ^Yarton — ^Letters  to  Bennet  Langton — Illness  of  Johnson's  Mother^ 
Letters  to  her,  and  to  Miss  Porter — His  Mother's  Death—"  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia  " 
— Miscellanies— Excursion  to  Oxford — Francis  Barber — John  Wilkes— -Smollett — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Montagu — Mrs.  Ogle — Jlylne  the  Architect. 

The  Idler  is  evideutly  tlie  work  of  the  same  mind  which  produced 
the  Rambler,  but  has  less  body  and  more  spirit.  It  has  more  vari- 
ety of  real  Hfe,  and  greater  facility  of  language.  He  describes  the 
miseries  of  idleness,  with  the  lively  sensations  of  one  who  has  felt 
them  ;  and  in  his  private  memorandums  while  engaged  in  it,  we 
find  "This  year  I  hope  to  learn  diligence."'  Many  of  these  excel- 
lent essays  were  written  as  hastily  as  an  ordinary  letter.  Mr. 
Langton  remembers  Johnson,  when  on  a  visit  at  Oxford,  asking  him 
one  evening,  how  long  it  was  till  the  post  went  out  ;  and  on  being 
told  about  half  an  hour,  he  exclaimed,  "  then  we  shall  do  very 
well."  He  upon  this  instantly  sat  down  and  finished  an  Idler, 
which  it  was  necessary  should  be  in  London  the  next  day.  Mr. 
Langton  having  signified  a  wish  to  read  it,  "  Sir,  (said  he)  you 
shall  not  do  more  than  I  have  done  myself."  He  then  folded  it  up, 
and  sent  it  oflf. 

Yet  there  are  in  the  Idler  several  papers  which  show  as  much 
profundity  of  thought,  and  labor  of  language,  as  any  of  this  great 
man's  writings.  No.  14,  "Robbery  of  Time  ;"  No.  24,  "Think- 
ing ;"  No.  41,  "  Death  of  a  Friend  ;"  No.  43,  "Flight  of  Time  ;" 
No.  51,  "  Domestic  greatness  unattainable  ;"  No.  52,  "  Self-denial ;" 
No.  58,  "  Actual,  how  short  of  fancied,  excellence  ;"  No.  89, 
"Physical  evil  moral  good  ;"  and  his  concluding  paper  on  "The 
bv>rror  of  the  last,"  will  prove  this  assertion,     I  know  not  why  a 

*  See  Prayers  and  Meditation?. 


268  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^'^^• 

motto,  the  usual  trapping  of  periodical  papers,  is  prefixed  to  very 
few  of  the  Idlers,  as  I  have  heard  Johnson  commend  the  custom  : 
and  he  never  could  be  at  a  loss  for  one,  his  memory  being  stored 
with  innumerable  passages  of  the  classics.  In  this  series  of  essays 
he  exhibits  admirable  instances  of  grave  humour,  of  which  he  had 
an  uncommon  share,  ^or  on  some  occasions  has  he  repressed  that 
power  of  sophistry  which  he  possessed  in  so  eminent  a  degree.  In 
No.  II,  he  treats  with  the  utmost  contempt  the  opinion  that  our 
mental  faculties  depend,  in  some  degree,  upon  the  weather  ;  an 
opinion,  which  they  who  have  never  experienced  its  truth  are  not 
to  be  envied,  and  of  which  he  himself  could  not  but  be  sensible,  as 
the  effects  of  weather  upon  him  were  very  visible.  Yet  thus  he 
declaims  : — 

"  Surely,  nothing  is  more  reproachful  to  a  being  endowed  with  reason,  thau 
to  resign  its  powers  to  the  influence  of  the  air,  and  live  in  dependence  on  the 
weather  and  the  wind  for  the  only  blessings  which  nature  has  put  in  our  power, 
tranquillity  and  benevolence.  This  distinction  of  seasons  is  produced  only  by 
imagination  operating  on  luxury.  To  temperance,  every  day  is  bright ;  and 
every  hour  is  propitious  to  diligence.  He  that  shall  resolutely  excite  his  facul- 
ties or  exert  his  virtues,  will  soon  make  himself  superior  to  the  seasons  ;  and 
may  set  at  defiance  the  morning  mist  and  the  evening  damp,  the  blasts  of  the 
east,  and  the  clouds  of  the  south." 

Alas  !  it  is  too  certain,  that  where  the  frame  has  delicate  fibres, 
and  there  is  a  fine  sensibility^  such  influences  of  the  air  are  irresist- 
ible. He  might  as  well  have  bid  defiance  to  the  ague,  palsy,  and 
all  other  bodily  disorders.  Such  boasting  of  the  mind  is  false  ele- 
vation. 

"  I  think  the  Romans  call  it  Stoicism." 

But  in  this  number  of  his  Idler  his  spirits  seem  to  run  riot ; '  for 
in  the  wantonness  of  his  disquisition  he  forgets,  for  a  moment,  even 
the  reverence  for  that  which  he  held  in  high  respect ;  and  describes 
"  the  attendant  on  a  Court," '  as  one  "  whose  business  is  to  watch 
the  looks  of  a  being,  weak  and  foolish  as  himself." 

1  This  doctrine  of  the  little  influence  of  the  weather,  however,  seems  to  have  been  his  fixed 
opinion  :  he  often  repeated  it  in  conversation.     See  post,  July  9, 1763.— C. 

«  Mr.  Boswell  seems  resolved  to  forget  that  Johnson's  reverence  for  the  court  had  not  yet 
commenced.  George  II.  was  still  alive,  whom  Johnson  always  abused,  and  sometimes  ver» 
n  decently. 


'^TA''-^^-  THE  iDtEM.  2(;0 

His  unqualified  ridicule  of  rhetorical  gesture  or  action  is  not, 
Burely,  a  test  of  truth  ;  yet  we  cannot  help  admiring  how  well  it  ia 
adapted  to  produce  the  effect  which  he  wished  : — 

"  Neither  the  judges  of  our  laws,  uor  the  representatives  of  our  people, 
would  be  much  affected  by  laboured  gesticulations,  or  belia^e  any  man  the 
more  because  he  rolled  his  eyes,  or  puifed  his  cheeks,  or  spread  abroad  his 
arms,  or  stamped  the  ground,  or  thumped  his  breast,  or  turned  his  eyes  some- 
times to  the  ceiling,  and  sometimes  to  the  floor." 

A  casual  coincidence  with  other  writers,  or  an  adoption  of  a  sen- 
timent or  image  which  has  been  found  in  the  writings  of  another, 
and  afterwards  appears  in  the  mind  as  one's  own,  is  not  unfrequent. 
The  richness  of  Johnson's  fancy,  which  could  supply  his  page  abund- 
antly on  all  occasions,  and  the  strength  of  his  memory,  which  at 
once  detected  the  real  owner  of  any  thought,  made  him  less  liable 
to  the  imputation  of  plagiarism  than,  perhaps,  any  of  our  writers. 
In  the  Idler,  however,  there  is  a  paper,  in  which  conversation  ia 
assimilated  to  a  bowl  of  punch,  where  there  is  the  same  train  of 
comparison  as  in  a  poem  by  Blacklock,  in  his  collection  published 
in  1756  ;  in  which  a  parallel  is  ingeniously  drawn  between  human 
life  and  that  liquor.     It  ends, 

"  Say,  then,  physicians  of  each  kind. 
Who  cure  the  body  or  the  mind. 
What  harjm  in  drinking  can  there  be, 
Since  punch  and  Ufe  so  well  agree  ?" 

To  the  Idler,'  when  collected  in  volumes,  he  added,  beside  the 

>  The  profits  accruing  from  the  sale  of  this  paper,  and  the  subscriptions  which,  fiom  the 
year  1756,  he  was  receiving  for  the  edition  of  Shakspeare  by  him  proposed,  were  the  only 
known  means  of  his  subsistence  for  a  period  of  near  four  years,  and  we  may  suppose  them 
hardly  adequate  to  his  wants,  for,  upon  finding  the  balance  of  the  account  for  the  Dictionary 
against  him,  he  quitted  his  house  in  Gough  Square,  and  took  chambers  in  Gray's  Inn;  and 
Mrs.  Williams,  upon  this  removal,  fixed  herself  in  lodgings  at  a  boarding-school,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  their  former  dwelling. — Hawkins. 

He  retired  to  Gray's  Inn,  and  soon  removed  to  chambers  in  the  Inner  Temple  Lane,  where 
he  lived  in  poverty,  total  idleness,  and  the  pride  of  literature.  Mr.  Fitzherbert  (the  father  of 
Lord  St.  Helen's),  a  man  distinguished  through  life  for  his  benevolence  and  other  amiable 
qualities,  used  to  say,  that  he  paid  a  morning  visit  to  Johnson,  intendii.g  from  his  chambers 
to  send  a  letter  into  the  city ;  but,  to  his  great  surprise,  he  found  an  author  by  profession 
without  pen,  ink,  or  paper.  The  present  Bishop  of  Salisbury  was  also  among  those  whs 
endeavoured,  by  constant  attention,  to  sootha  the  cares  of  a  mind  which  he  knew  to 
be  afflicted  with  gloomy  apprehensions. — Mdkphy. 


270  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  •   '^^'''• 

Essay  on  Epitaphs,  and  the  Dissertation  on  those  of  Pope,  an  Essay 
on  the  Bravery  of  the  English  common  Soldiers.  He,  however, 
omitted  one  of  the  original  papers,  which  in  the  folio  copy  is  No.  22.' 

Letter  57.  TO  THE  REV,  THOMAS  WARTON. 

•  "  London,  April  14, 1758. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Your  notes  upon  my  poet  were  very  acceptable.  I  beg  that 
you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  continue  your  searclies.  It  will  be  reputable  to  my 
work,  and  suitable  to  your  professorship,  to  have  something  of  yours  in  the 
notes.  Aa  you  have  given  no  directions  about  your  name,  I  shall  therefore 
put  it.  I  wish  your  brother  would  take  the  same  trouble.  A  commentary 
must  arise  from  the  fortuitous  discoveries  of  many  men  in  devious  walks  of 
literature.  Some  of  your  remarks  are  on  plays  already  printed  :  but  I  purpose 
to  add  an  Appendix  of  Notes,  so  that  nothing  comes  too  late. 

"You  give  yourself  too  much  uneasiness,  dear  Sir,  about  the  loss  of  the 
papers.'  The  loss  is  nothing,  if  nobody  has  found  them  ;  nor  even  then,  per- 
haps, if  the  numbers  be  known.  You  are  not  the  only  friend  that  has  had  the 
same  mischance.  You  may  repair  your  want  out  of  a  stock  which  is  deposited 
with  Mr.  Allen,  of  Magdalen  Hall;  or  out  of  a  parcel  which  I  have  just  sent  to 
Mr.  Chambers,  for  the  use  of  any  body  that  will  be  so  kind  as  to  want  them. 
Mr  Langtons  are  well ;  and  Miss  Roberts,  whom  I  have  at  last  brought  to 
speak,  upon  the  information  which  you  gave  me,  that  she  had  something  to 
say.    I  am,  &c.,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  58.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  London,  June  1, 1753. 

"  Dear  Sir, — You  will  receive  this  by  Mr.  Baretti,  a  gentleman  particularly 
entitled  to  the  notice  and  kindness  of  the  professor  of  poesy.  He  has  time 
but  for  a  short  stay,  and  will  be  glad  to  Have  it  filled  up  with  as  much  as  he 
can  hear  and  see. 

"  In  recommending  another  to  your  favour,  I  ought  not  to  omit  thanks  for 
the  kindness  which  you  have  shown  to  myself  Have  you  any  more  notes  on 
Shakspeare  ?     I  shall  be  glad  of  them. 

"  I  see  your  pupil  sometimes  ;  ^  his  mind  is  as  exalted  as  his  stature.  I  am 
half  afraid  of  him  ;  but  he  is  no  less  amiable  than  formidable.  He  will,  if  the 
forwardness  of  his  spring  be  not  blasted,  be  a  credit  to  you,  and  to  the  TJni- 
versity.  He  brings  some  of  my  plays  *  with  him,  which  he  has  my  permission 
to  show  you,  on  condition  you  will  hide  them  from  every  body  else.  I  am, 
dear  sir,  kc,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

1  This  paper  may  be  found  in  StockdaIe"s  supplemental  volume  of  Johnson's  Miscellaneous 
Pieces. 

^  Receipts  for  Shakspeare. — Warton. 

^  Mr.  Langton. — Warton. 

*  Part  of  the  impression  of  the  Shakspeare,  which  Dr.  Johnson  conducted  alone,  and  pub- 
lished by  subscription.    This  edition  came  out  in  1705 — Warton. 


^^■*'- *^-  LETTERS    TO    LAXGTON.  211 

Letter  59.  TO  BENNET  LAXGTOX,  ESQ. 

Of  Trinity  College,  Oxford. 

June  2S,  1T58. 

"Dear  Sir: — Though  I  might  have  expected  to  hear  from  /ou,  upon  youi 
entrance  into  a  new  state  of  hfe  at  a  new  place,  yet  recollectirg,  (not  without 
Bome  degree  of  shame,)  that  I  owe  you  a  letter  upon  an  old  account,  I  think 
it  my  part  to  write  first.  This,  indeed,  I  do  not  only  from  complaisance  but 
from  interest ;  for  living  on  in  the  old  way,  I  am  very  glad  of  a  correspondent 
so  capable  as  yourself  to  diversify  the  hours.  You  have,  at  present,  too  many 
novelties  about  you  to  need  any  help  from  me  to  drive  along  your  time. 

"I  know  not  anything  more  pleasant,  or  more  instructive,  than  to  compare 
experience  with  expectation,  or  to  register  from  time  to  time  the  difference 
between  idea  and  reality.  It  is  by  this  kind  of  observation  that  we  grow 
daily  less  liable  to  be  disappointed.  You,  who  are  very  capable  of  anticipating 
futurity,  and  raising  phantoms  before  your  own  eyes,  must  often  have  imagined 
to  yourself  an  academical  life,  and  have  conceived  what  would  be  the  manners, 
the  views,  and  the  conversation,  of  men  devoted  to  letters ;  how  they  would 
choose  their  companions,  how  they  would  direct  their  studies,  and  how  they 
would  regulate  their  lives.  Let  me  know  what  you  expected,  and  what  you 
have  found.  At  least  record  it  to  yourself,  before  custom  has  reconciled  you 
to  the  scenes  before  you,  and  the  disparity  of  your  discoveries  to  your  hopea 
has  vanished  from  your  mind.  It  is  a  rule  never  to  be  forgotten,  that  what- 
ever strikes  strongly,  should  be  described  while  the  first  impression  remains 
fresh  upon  the  mind. 

"  I  love,  dear  Sir,  to  think  on  you,  and  therefore,  should  willingly  write  more 
to  you,  but  that  the  post  will  not  now  give  me  leave  to  do  more  than  to  send 
my  compUments  to  Mr.  Warton,  and  tell  you  that  I  am,  dear  Sir,  most 
affectionately,  your  very  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  60.  TO  BEXNET  LAXGTON,  ESQ. 

At  Lang  ton. 

"Sept.  21,  175S. 
"  Dear  Sir, — I  should  be  sorry  to  think  that  what  engrosses  the  attention 
of  my  friend,  should  have  no  part  of  mine.  Your  mind  is  now  full  of  the  fate 
of  Dury  ;'  but  his  fate  is  past,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  try  what  reflection 
will  suggest  to  mitigate  the  terrors  of  a  violent  death,  which  is  more  formida- 
ble at  the  first  glance,  than  on  a  nearer  ar-d  more  steady  view.  A  violent 
death  is  never  very  painful ;  the  only  danger  is,  lest  it  should  be  unprovided. 
But  if  a  man  can  be  supposed  to  make  no  provision  for  death  in  war,  what  can 
be  the  state  that  would  have  awakened  him  to  the  care  of  futurity  ?     When 

»  Major-General  Alexander  Dury,  of  the  First  Regiment  of  Foot  Guards,  who  fell  in  th# 
gallant  discharge  of  his  duty,  near  St.  Cas,  in  the  well-known  unfortunate  expedition  against 
FrftBce,  in  175S, 


SI 2  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1T59 

would  that  man  have  prepared  himself  to  die,  who  went  to  seek  death  witnout 
preparaiion?  What  then  can  be  the  reason  why  we  lament  more  him  that  dies 
of  a  wound,  than  fiim  that  dies  of  a  fever  ?  A  man  that  languishes  with 
disease,  ends  his  life  with  more  pain,  but  with  less  virtue  :  he  leaves  no 
example  to  his  friends,  nor  bequeaths  any  honour  to  his  descendants.  Tho 
only  reason  why  we  lament  a  soldier's  death,  is,  that  we  think  he  might  have 
lived  longer;  yet  this  cause  of  grief  is  common  to  many  other  kinds  of  death, 
which  are  not  so  passionately  bewailed.  The  truth  is,  that  every  death  is 
violent,  which  is  the  effect  of  accident ;  every  death  which  is  not  gradually 
brought  on  by  the  miseries  of  age,  or  when  life  is  e'xtinguished  for  any  other 
reason  than  that  it  is  burnt  out.  He  that  dies  before  sixty,  of  a  cold  or  con- 
sumption, dies,  in  reality,  by  a  violent  death  ;  yet  his  death  is  borne  with 
patience,  only  because  the  cause  of  his  untimely  end  is  mlcnt  and  invisible.  Let 
us  endeavour  to  see  things  as  they  are,  and  then  inquire  whether  we  ought  to 
complain.  Whether  to  see  life  as  it  is,  will  give  us  much  consolation,  I  know 
not;  but  the  consolation  which  is  drawn  from  truth,  if  any  there  be,  is  solid 
and  durable :  that  which  may  be  derived  from  error,  must  be,  like  its  original, 
fallacious  and  fugitive.     I  am,  dear,  dear  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  1*159,  in  the  montli  of  January,  his  mother  died,  at  the  great 
age  of  ninety,  an  event  which  deeply  nifected  him  ;  not  that  "  his 
mind  had  acquired  no  firmness  by  the  contemplation  of  mortality  ;' 
but  that  his  reverential  affection  for  her  was  not  abated  by  years,  as 
indeed  he  retained  all  his  tender  feelings  even  to  the  latest  period 
of  his  life.  I  have  been  told,  that  he  regretted  much  his  not  having 
gone  to  visit  his  mother,  for  several  years  previous  to  her  death. 
But  he  was  constantly  engaged  in  literary  labours,  which  confined 
him  to  London;  and  though  he  had  not  the  comfort  of  seeing  his 
aged  parent,  he  contributed  liberally  to  her  support. 

Letter  61.  TO  MRS.  JOHNSON. 

In  Lichfield? 

"  Jan.  13, 1758.» 
"  Honoured  Madam, — The  account  which  Miss  [Porter]  gives  me  of  your 

>  Mr.  Boswell  contradicts  Hawkins,  for  the  mere  pleasure,  as  it  would  seem,  of  doing  so. 
The  reader  must  observe  that  Mr.  Boswell's  work  is  full  of  anecdotes  of  Johnson's  want  of 
firmness  in  contemplating  mortality. — C.  • 

2  Since  the  publication  of  the  third  edition  of  this  work,  the  following  letters  of  Dr.  John- 
son, occasioned  by  the  last  illness  of  his  mother,  were  obligingly  communicated  to  Mr.  Malone 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Vyse.  They  are  placed  here  agreeably  to  the  chronological  order  almost  uni- 
formly observed  by  the  author;  and  so  strongly  evince  Dr.  Johnson's  piety  and  tenderness  of 
heart,  tliat  every  reader  must  be  gratified  by  their  insertion — M.,  1S04. 

'  Written  hy  mistake  for  1759,  as  the  subsetjuent  letters  show.    Jn  the  next  letter,  he  Ij^J 


^^■^■'•^  ILLNESS    OF   HIS    MOTHER.  218 

lealth,  pierces  my  heart.     God  comfort,  and  preserve  you,  and  save  you,  lot 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"I  would  have  Miss  read  to  you  from  time  to  time  the  Passion  of  our  Sa- 
viour, and  sometimes  the  sentences  in  the  Communion  Service,  beginning — 
'  Come  unto  7ne,  all  ye  that  travel  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'' 

"  I  have  just  now  read  a  physical  book,  which  inclines  me  to  think  that  a 
strong  infusion  of  the  bark  would  do  you  good.     Do,  dear  mother,  try  it. 

"Pray,  send  me  your  blessing,  and  forgive  all  that  I  have  done  amiss  to 
you.  And  whatever  you  would  have  done,  and  what  debts  you  would  have 
paid  first,  or  anything  else  that  you  would  direct,  let  Miss  put  it  down;  I  shall 
endeavour  to  obey  you. 

"  I  have  got  twelve  guineas'  to  send  you,  but  unliappily  am  at  a  loss  how 
lQ  send  it  to-night.     If  I  cannot  send  it  to-night,  it  will  come  by  tlic  next  post. 

"  Pray  do  not  omit  anything  mentioned  in  this  letter.  God  bless  you  for 
ever  and  ever.     I  am,  your  dutiful  son, 

"  Sam  Jounson." 

Lkxter  62.  TO  MISS  PORTER. 

At  Mrs.  Johnson'' s,  in  Lichjield. 

"  Jan.  16,  1759 
"My  Dear  Miss, — I  think  myself  obliged  to  you  beyond  all  expres>ion  of 
gratitude  for  your  care  of  my  dear  mother.     God  grant  it  may  not  be  without 
success.     Tell  Kitty, ■■'  that  I  shall  never  forget  her  tenderness- for  her  mistress. 
Whatever  you  can  do,  continue  to  do.     My  heart  is  very  full. 

"  I  hope  you  received  twelve  guineas  on  Monday.  I  found  a  way  of  sending 
them  by  means  of  the  postmaster,  after  I  had  written  my  letter,  and  hope  they 
came  safe.  I  will  send  you  more  in  a  few  days.  God  bless  you  all.  I  am, 
my  dear,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 
"  Over  the  leaf  is  a  letter  to  my  mother." 

Letter  63.  TO  MRS.  JOHNSON. 

"  Jan.  16, 1759. 
Dear  Honoured  Mother, — Your  weakness  afflicts  me  beyond  what  I  am 
willing  to  communicate  to  you.     I  do  not  think  you  unfit  to  face  death,  but  I 

Inadvertently  fallen  into  the  same  error,  but  corrected  it.  On  the  outside  of  the  letter  of  the 
18th  was  written  by  another  hand, — "Pray  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  this  by  return  of  post, 
without  fail." — M. 

•  I  find  in  Johnson's  diary  a  note  of  the  payment  to  Mr.  Allen,  the  printer,  of  six  guineas, 
which  he  had  borrowed  of  him,  and  sent  to  his  dying  mother. — H.\wkins,  p.  366. 

*  Catherine  Chambers,  Mrs.  Johnson's  maid-servant.  She  died  in  October,  1767.  Se« 
Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  71 :  "  Sunday,  Oct.  18,  1767.  Yesterd.iy,  Oct  17,  I  took  my  leave 
for  ever  of  my  dear  old  friend,  Catherine  Chambers,  who  came  to  live  with  my  mother  about 
1724,  and  has  been  but  little  parted  from  us  since.  She  buried  ray  father,  my  brothe-,  and 
«.y  mither.     She  is  now  fifty-eight  years  old." — M. 

13* 


574  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 


tT59 


know  noL  liow  to  bear  the  thought  of  losing  you.     Endeavour  to  do  all  you 
[can]  for  yourself.     Eat  as  much  as  you  can. 

"I  pray  often  for  you;  do  you  pray  for  me?  I  have  nothing  to  add  t(?' 
my  last  letter.     I  am,  dear,  dear  mother,  your  dutiful  son,      Sam.  Johnson." 

Lettek  64.  TO  MRS.  JOHNSON, 

In   Liclijield. 

"  Jan.  18, 1769. 
"  Dear  Honoured  Mother, — I  fear  you  are  too  ill  for  long  letters ;  there- 
fore I  will  only  tell  you,  you  have  from  me  all  the  regard  that  can  possibly 
subsist  in  the  heart.     I  pray  God  to  bless  you  for  evermore,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
Bake.     Amen. 

"  Let  Miss  write  to  me  every  post,  however  short.  I  am,  dear  mother,  your 
dutiful  son,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  65.  TO  MISS  PORTER, 

At  Mrs.  Johnsoji's  in  Lichfield. 

"  Jan.  20,  1769. 
"  Dear  Miss, — I  will,   if  it  be  possible,  come  down  to  you.     God  grant  I 
may  yet  [find]  my  dear  mother  breathing  and  sensible.     Do  not  tell  her,  lest  I 
disappoint  her.     If  I   miss  to   write  next  post,  I  am  on  the  road.     I  am,  my 
dearest  Miss,  your  most  humble  servant,  "Sam.  Johnson. 

"  On  the  other  side." 

Letter  66.  TO  MRS.  JOHNSON. 

"Jan.  20, 1759.- 
"Dear  Honoured  Mother, — Neither  your  condition  nor  your  cnaracter 
make  it  fit  for  me  to  say  much.  You  have  been  the  best  mother,  and  i  be* 
lieve  the  best  woman  in  the  woi*ld.  I  thank  you  for  your  indulgence  to  me 
and  beg  forgiveness  of  all  that  I  have  done  ill,  and  all  that  I  have  omitted 
to  do  well."  God  grant  you  His  Holy  Spirit,  and  receive  you  to  everlasting 
happiness,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen.  Lord  Jesus  receive  yotir  spirit. 
Amen.     I  am,  dear,  dear  mother,  your  dutiful  son,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  67,  TO  MISS  PORTER. 

In  Lichfield. 

"Jan.  2.3,1759.3 
"  You   will  conceive  my   sorrow   for  the  loss  of  ray  mother,   of  the  best 

•  This  letter  was  written  on  the  second  leaf  of  the  preceding,  addressed  to  Miss  Porter. 

^  So,  in  the  prayer  which  he  composed  on  this  occasion  : — "  Almighty  God,  merciful  Father, 
In  whose  hands  are  life  and  death,  sanctify  unto  me  the  sorrow  which  I  now  feel.  Forgive 
me  whatever  I  have  done  unkindly  to  my  mother,  and  whatever  I  have  omitted  to  do 
kindly.  Make  me  to  remember  her  good  precepts  and  good  example,  and  to  reform  my  lifa 
according  to  thy  holy  word,"  &c.     Prayers,  kc,  p.  31. — M. 

s  Mrs.  Johnson  probably  died  on  the  20th  or  21st  of  January,  and  was  buried  on  the  daj 
this  letter  was  written — W. 


^'^'^'^-oO-  DEATH   OF   HIS   MOTHER.    .  '275 

mother.  1/  she  were  to  live  again,  surely  I  should  behave  better  to  her.  But 
she  is  happy,  and  what  is  past  is  nothing  to  her ;  and  for  me,  since  I  cannot 
repair  my  faults  to  her,  I  hope  repentance  will  efface  them.  I  return  you  and 
all  those  that  have  been  good  to  her  my  sincerest  thanks,  and  pray  God  to 
repay  you  all  with  infinite  advantage.  Write  to  me,  and  comfort  me,  dear 
child.  I  shall  be  glad  likewise,  if  Kitty  will  write  to  me.  I  shall  send  a  bill 
of  twenty  pounds  in  a  few  days,  which  1  thought  to  have  brought  to  my  mother, 
but  God  suffered  it  not.  I  have  not  power  or  composure  to  say  much  more. 
God  bless  you,  and  bless  us  all.  I  am,  dear  Miss,  your  affectionate  hunil  e 
servant,  "Sam.  Johnson." 


Letter  G8.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER.' 

[The  beginning  of  the  writing  torn  and  lost.] 


'  Jan.  25, 1759. 


"  You  will  forgive  me  if  I  am  not  yet  so  composed  as  to  give  any  directions 
about  any  thing.  But  you  are  wiser  and  better  than  I,  and  I  shall  be  pleased 
with  all  that  you  shall  do.  It  is  not  of  any  use  for  me  now  to  come  down ; ' 
nor  can  I  bear  the  place.  If  you  want  any  directions,  Mr.  Howard  ^  will  ad- 
Tise  you.  The  twenty  pounds  I  could  not  get  a  bill  for  to-night,  but  will  send 
it  on  Saturday.     I  am,  my  dear,  your  affectionate  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson. 

Letter  69,  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  Feb.  6, 1759. 

"  Dear  Miss, — I  have  no  reason  to  forbear  writing,  but  that  it  makes  my 
heart  heavy,  and  I  had  nothing  particular  to  say  which  might  not  be  delayed 
to  the  next  post ;  but  had  no  thoughts  of  ceasing  to  correspond  with  my  dear 
Lucy,  the  only  person  now  left  in  the  world  with  whom  I  think  myself  con- 
nected. There  needed  not  my  dear  mother's  desire,  for  every  heart  must  lean 
to  somebody,  and  I  have  nobody  but  you  ;  in  whom  I  put  all  my  little  affairs 
with  too  much  confidence  to  desire  you  to  keep  receipts,  as  you  prudently  pro- 
posed. 

"If  you  and  Kitty  will  keep  the  house,  I  think  I  shall  like  it  best.  Kitty 
may  carry  on  the  trade  for  herself,  keeping  her  own  stock  apart,  and  laying 
aside  any  money  that  she  receives  for  any  of  the  goods  which  her  good  mis- 

'  No.  41  of  the  Idler  (Jan.  27),  though  it  takes  the  character  of  a  letter  to  the  author,  was 
written  by  Johnson  himself  on  his  mother's  death,  and  may  be  supposed  to  describe  as  truly 
as  pathetically  his  sentiments  on  the  separation  of  friends  and  relations. — Hawkins. 

'^  Mr.  Murphy  states  : — "  AVith  this  supply  (the  price  of  Rasselas)  Johnson  set  out  for  Lich- 
field ;  but  did  not  arrive  in  time  to  close  the  eyes  of  a  parent  whom  he  loved.  He  attended 
the  funeral."  It  is  clear,  from  all  these  letters,  that  he  did  not  attend  on  that  occasion.  Rai* 
jelas  was  not  written,  nor  of  course,  it  may  be  presumed,  sold,  till  two  months  later  — C, 

'  Mr.  Howard  was  in  the  law,  and  resided  in  the  close. — Harwood  ■ 


^76  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON,  ^^^ 

tress  has  left  behind  her.  I  do  not  see,  if  this  scheme  be  followed,  any  need 
of  appraising  the  books.  My  mother's  debts,  dear  mother,  I  suppose  1  may 
pay  with  little  difficulty;  and  the  little  trade  may  go  silently  forward.  I  fancj 
Kitty  can  do  nothing  better ;  and  I  shall  not  want  to  put  her  out  of  a  house, 
where  she  has  lived  so  long,  and  with  so  much  virtue.  I  am  very  sorry  that  she 
is  ill,  and  earnestly  hope  that  she  will  soon  recover;  let  her  know  that  I  have 
the  highest  value  for  her,  and  would  do  anything  for  her  advantage.  Let  her 
think  of  this  proposal.  I  do  not  see  any  likelier  method  by  which  she  may  pass 
the  remaining  part  of  her  life  in  quietness  and  competence. 

"  You  must  have  what  part  of  the  house  you  please,  while  you  are  incUned 
to  stay  in  it ;  but  I  flatter  myself  with  the  hope  that  you  and  I  shall  some  time 
pass  our  days  together.  I  am  very  solitary  and  comfortless,  but  will  not  Invite 
you  to  come  hither  till  I  can  have  hope  of  making  you  live  here  so  as  not  to 
dislike  your  situation. 

"  Pray,  my  dearest,  write  to  me  as  often  as  you  can.  I  am,  dear  madam, 
your  affectionate  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  70.  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  March  1,  1T59. 

"  Dear  Madam, — I  thought  your  last  letter  long  .in  coming,  and  did  not 
require  or  expect  such  an  inventory  of  little  things  as  you  have  sent  me.  I 
could  have  taken  your  word  for  a  matter  of  much  greater  value.  I  am  glad 
that  Kitty  is  better  ;  let  her  be  paid  first,  as  my  dear,  dear  mother  ordered,  and 
then  let  me  know  at  once  the  sum  necessary  to  discharge  her  other  debts,  and 
I  will  find  it  you  very  soon. 

"  I  beg,  my  dear,  that  you  would  act  for  me  without  the  least  scruple  ;  for  I 
can  repose  myself  very  confidently  upon  your  prudence,  and  hope  we  shall 
never  have  reason  to  love  each  other  less.  I  shall  take  it  very  kindly  if  you 
make  it  a  rule  to  write  to  me  once  at  least  every  week ;  for  I  am  now  ver^ 
desolate,  and  am  loth  to  be  universally  forgotten.  I  am,  dear  sweet,  youi 
affectionate  servant,  "Sam.  Johnson." 

Soon  after  this  event,  lie  wrote  bis  "  Easselas,  Prince  of  Abys- 
sinia ;"  *  concerning  the  publication  of  which  Sir  John  Hawkins 

'  Rasselas  was  published  in  April  1759.  Does  not  Johnson  express  his  own  feelings,  when 
he  so  beautifully  describes  the  dejection  of  the  Princess  at  the  loss  of  Pekuah  ?— "  She  sunk 
into  silent  pensiveness  and  gloomy  tranquillity.  She  sat  from  morning  to  evening,  recolhict- 
ing  all  that  had  been  done  or  said  by  her  Pekuah,  treasured  up,  with  care,  every  trifle  ou 
which  Pekifeh  had  set  an  accidental  value,  and  which  might  recall  to  mind  any  little  incident 
or  careless  conversation.  The  sentiments  of  her,  whom  she  now  expected  to  see  no  more, 
were  treasured  in  her  memory  as  rules  of  life,  and  she  deliberated  to  no  other  end,  than  to 
conjecture,  on  any  occasion,  what  would  have  been  the  opinion  and  counsel  of  Pekuah." 
Chap.  35.  Again,  in  chap  45,  Johnson  pathetically  remarks,  in  the  character  of  the  sage, 
'•  I  have  neither  mother  to  be  delighted  with  the  reputation  of  her  son,  nor  wife  to  partake  the 
honours  of  her  husband." — Markland 


^TAT.  50.  RASSELAS    AND    CAXDIDE.  2t1 

guesses  vaguely  aud  idly,  instead  of  having  taken  the  trouble  to 
inform  himself  with  authentic  precision.  Not  to  trouble  my  readers 
with  a  repetition  of  the  knight's  reveries,  I  have  to  mention,  that 
the  late  Mr  Strahan,  the  printer,  told  me  that  Johnson  wrote  it, 
that  with  the  profits  he  might  defray  the  expense  of  his  mother's 
funeral,  aud  pay  some  little  debts  which  she  had  left.  He  told  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  that  he  composed  it  in  the  evenings  of  one  week  ; 
sent  it  to  the  press  in  portions  as  it  was  written,  and  had  never  since 
read  it  orer.'  Mr.  Strahan,  Mr.  Johnston,  and  Mr.  Dodsley,  pur-« 
chased  it  for  a  hundred  pounds  ;  but  afterwards  paid  him  twenty- 
five  pounds  more,  when  it  came  to  a  second  edition. 

Considering  the  large  sums  which  have  been  received  for  compi- 
lations, and  works  requiring  not  much  more  genius  than  compila- 
tions, we  cannot  but  wonder  at  the  very  low  price  which  he  was 
content  to  receive  for  this  admirable  performance  ;  which,  though 
he  had  written  nothing  else,  would  have  rendered  his  name  immortal 
in  the  world  o*f  literature.  None  of  his  writings  has  been  so  exten- 
sively diffused  over  Europe  ;  for  it  has  been  translated  into  most,  if 
not  all,  of  the  modern  languages.  This  tale,  with  all  the  charms  of 
Oriental  imagery,  and  all  the  force  and  beauty  of  which  the  Eng- 
lish language  is  capable,  leads  us  through  the  most  important  scenes 
of  human  life,  and  shows  us  that  this  stage  of  our  being  is  full  of 
"  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  To  those  who  look  no  further  than 
the  present  life,  or  who  maintain  that  human  nature  has  not  fallen 
from  the  state  in  which  it  was  created,  the  instruction  of  this  sublime 
story  will  be  of  no  avail.  But  they  who  think  justly,  and  feel  with 
strong  sensibility,  will  listen  with  eagerness  and  admiration  to  its 
truth  and  wisdom.  Voltaire's  Caxdide,  w^ritten  to  refute  the  system 
of  Optimism,  which  it  has  accomplished  with  brilliant  success,  is 
wonderfully  similar  in  its  plan  and  conduct  to  Johnson's  Rasselas  ; 
insomuch,  that  I  have  heard  Johnson  say,  that  if  they  had  not  been 
published  so  closely  one  after  the  other  that  there  was  not  time  for 
imitation,  it  would  have  been  in  vain  to  deny  that  the  scheme  of  that 
which  came  latest  was  taken  from  the  other.  Though  the  propo- 
sition illustrated  by  both  these  works  was  the  same,  namely,  that  in 

1  See  under  June  2, 1781.     Findinf;  it  then  accidentally  in  a  chaise  with  Mr.  B<  swell,  h« 
ead  it  eagerly.     Thi3  was,  doubtless  long  after  bis  declaration  to  Sir  Joshu*  Reynolds. — M. 


278  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^^'* 

our  present  state  there  is  more  evil  than  good,  the  intention  of  the 
writers  was  very  diiferent.  Voltaire,  I  am  afraid,  meant  only  by 
wanton  profaneness  to  obtain  a  sportive  victory  over  religion,  and 
to  discredit  the  belief  of  a  superintending  Providence  :  Johnson 
meant,  by  showing  the  unsatisfactory  nature  of  things  temporal,  to 
direct  the  hopes  of  man  to  things  eternal.  "  Rasselas,"  as  was 
observed  to  me  by  a  very  accomplished  lady,  may  be  considered  as 
a  more  enlarged  and  more  deeply  philosophical  discourse  in  prose, 
upon  the  interesting  truth,  which  in  his  "  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  " 
he  had  so  successfully  enforced  in  verse. 

The  fund  of  thinking  which  this  work  contains  is  such,  thai 
almost  every  sentence  of  it  may  furnish  a  subject  of  long  meditation. 
I  am  not  satisfied  if  a  year  passes  without  my  liaving  read  it 
through  ;  and  at  every  perusal,  ray  admiration  of  the  mind  which 
produced  it  is  so  highly  raised,  that  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  I 
had  the  honour  of  enjoying  the  intimacy  of  such  a  man. 

I  restrain  myself  from  quoting  passages  from  this  excellent  work, 
or  even  referring  to  them  ;  because  I  should  not  know  what  to 
select,  or,  rather,  what  to  omit.  I  shall,  however,  transcribe  one, 
as  it  shows  how  well  he  could  state  the  arguments  of  those  who  be- 
lieve in  the  appearance  of  departed  spirits  ;  a  doctrine  which  it  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  he  himself  ever  positively  held  : 

"If  all  your  fear  be  of  apparitions  (said  the  Prince),  I  will  promise  you 
safety:  there  is  no  danger  from  the  dead  ;  he  that  is  once  buried  will  be  seen 
no  more. 

"  That  the  dead  are  seen  no  more  (said  Imlac),  I  will  not  undertake  to  main- 
tain, against  the  concurrent  and  unvaried  testimony  of  all  ages,  and  of  all 
nations.  There  is  no  people,  rude  or  learned,  among  whom  apparitions  of  the 
dead  are  not  related  and  believed.  This  opinion,  which  prevails  as  far  as 
human  nature  is  diffused,  could  become  universal  only  by  its  truth ;  those  that 
never  heard  of  one  another,  would  not  have  agreed  in  a  tale  which  nothing 
but  experience  can  make  credible.  That  it  is  doubted  by  single  cavillers,  can 
very  little  weaken  the  general  evidence  ;  and  some  who  deny  it  with  their 
tongues,  confess  it  by  their  fears." 

Notwithstanding  my  high  admiration  of  Rasselas,  I  will  not  main- 
tain that  the  "  morbid  melancholy  "  in  Johnson's  constitution  may 
not,  perhaps,  have  made  life  appear  to  him  more  insipid  and  un 


^■^■^^■^-  KASSELAS.  21S) 

happy  than  it  g-cnorally  is  ;  for  I  am  sure  that  he  had  U'ss  eiijoy- 
nieut  fi-ODi  it  than  I  liave.  Yet  wliatever  additional  shade  his  own 
particular  sensations  may  have  tlirown  on  his  representation  of  life, 
attentive  observation  and  close  inquiry  have  convinced  me,  that 
there  is  too  much  reality  in  the  gloomy  picture.  The  truth,  how- 
ever, is,  that  we  judge  of  the  happiness  and  misery  of  life  difterenily 
at  different  times,  according  to  the  state  of  our  changeable  frame. 
I  always  remember  a  remark  made  to  me  by  a  Turkish  lady,  edu 
cated  in  France  :  "  Mafoi,  Monsieior,  notre  bonheur  dejKhd  de  la 
fagon  que  notre  sang  circule."  Tliis  have  I  learnt  from  a  precty  hard 
course  of  experience  ;  and  would,  from  sincere  benevolence,  impress 
upon  all  wdio  honour  tiiis  book  with  a  perusal,  that  until  a  steady 
conviction  is  obtained,  that  the  present  life  is  an  imperfect  state, 
and  only  a  passage  to  a  better,  if  we  comply  with  the  divine  scheme 
of  progressive  improvemeut  ;  and  also  that  it  is  a  part  or  the  mys- 
terious plan  of  Providence,  that  intellectual  beings  must  "  be  made 
perfect  through  suffering  ;"  there  will  be  a  continual  recurrence  of 
disappointment  and  uneasiness.  But  if  we  walk  with  hope  in  "  thf^ 
mid-day  sun  "  of  revelation,  our  temper  and  disposition  will  be  such, 
that  the  comforts  and  enjoyments  in  our  way  will  be  relished,  while 
we  patiently  support  the  inconveniences  and  pains.  After  much 
speculation  and  various  reasonings,  I  acknowledge  myself  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  Voltaire's  canclusion,  "  Apres  tout  chst  un  mond 
passable^     But  we  must  not  think  too  deeply  : 

" where  ignorance  is  bliss, 


'Tis  folly  to  be  wise," 

"iS,  in  many  respects,  more  than  poetically  just.  Let  us  cultivate 
ander  the  command  of  good  principles,  "Za  theorie  des  sensatioTts 
agreables ;"  and,  as  Mr.  Burke  once  admirably  counselled  a  gra,ve 
and  anxious  gentleman,  "  live  pleasant." 

The  effect   of  Rasselas,   and  of  Johnson's  other  moral  talcs,  is 
thus  beautifully  illustrated  by  Mr.  Courtenay  : — 

■  "  Impressive  truth,  in  splendid  fiction  dress'd, 

Checks  the  vain  wish,  and  calms  the  troubled  breast ; 
O'er  the  dark  mind  a  light  celestial  throws, 
And  soothes  the  angry  passions  to  repose; 


2S0  ■  LI^E    OF    JOHNSON.  *'"•' 

As  oil  effused  illumes  and  smooths  the  deep, 
When  round  the  bark  the  swelling  surges  sweep." 

It  ,\'ill  be  recollected  that  clurii.g  all  this  year  he  carried  on  hia 
Idler/  and,  no  doubt,  was  proceeding,  though  slowly,  in  his 
edition  of  Slmkspeare.  He,  however,  from  that  libei'ality  which 
never  failed  when  called  upon  to  assist  other  labourers  in  literature, 
found  time  to  translate  for  Mrs.  Lenox's  English  version  of  Brumoy, 
"  A  Dissertation  on  the  Greek  Comedy,''  f  and  "  The  General  Con- 
clusion of  the  Book."  f 

An  inquiry  into  the  state  of  foreign  countries  was  an  object  that 
seems  at  all  times  to  have  interested  Johnson.  Hence  Mr.  Newbery 
found  no  great  difficulty  in  persuading  him  to  write  the  Introduc- 
tion* to  a  collection  of  voyages  and  travels  published  by  him  under 
the  title  of  "  The  World  Displayed  :"  the  first  volume  of  which 
appeared  this  year,  and  the  remaining  volumes  in  subsequent  years. 

I  would  ascribe  to  this  year  the  following  letter  to  a  son  of  one 
of  his  early  friends  at  Lichfield,  Mr.  Joseph  Simpson,  Barrister,  and 
author  of  a  tract  entitled  "  Eeflections  on  the  Study  of  the  Law." 

Letter  71.  TO  JOSEPH  SIMPSON,  ESQ. 

"Dear  Sir, — Your  father's  inexorability  not  only  grieves  but  amazes  me: 
ne  is  your  father ;  he  was  always  accounted  a  wise  man ;  nor  do  I  remember 

'  This  paper  was  in  such  high  estimation  beforB  it  was  collected  into  volumes,  that  it  waa 
seized  on  with  avidity  bj'  various  publishers  of  newspapers  and  magazines,  to  enrich  their 
publications  Johnson,  to  put  a  stop  to  this  unfair  proceeding,  wrote  for  the  Universal 
Chronicle  the  following  advertisement ;  in  which  there  is,  perhaps,  more  pomp  of  words  thau 
the  occasion  demanded : — 

"  London,  Jan.  5,  1759.  Advertisement.  The  proprietors  of  the  paper  entitled  '  The 
Idler,'  having  found  that  those  essays  are  inserted  in  the  newspapers  and  magazines  with  so 
little  regard  to  justice  or  decency,  that  the  Universal  Chronicle,  in  which  they  first  appear,  is 
not  always  mentioned,  think  it  necessary  to  declare  to  the  publishers  of  those  collections, 
that  however  patiently  they  have  hitherto  endured  these  injuries,  made  yet  more  injurious  by 
contempt,  they  have  now  determined  to  endure  them  no  longer.  They  have  already  seen 
essays,  for  which  a  very  large  price  is  paid,  transferred,  with  the  most  shameless  rapacity,  into 
the  weekly  or  monthly  compilations,  and  their  right,  at  least  for  the  present,  alienated  from 
them,  before  they  could  themselves  be  said  to  enjoy  it.  But  they  would  not  willingly  be 
thought  to  want  tenderness,  even  for  men  by  wliom  no  tenderness  hath  been  shown  The  past 
is  without  remedy,  and  shall  be  without  resentment  But  those  who  have  been  thus  busy  with 
their  sickles  in  the  fields  of  their  neighbors,  are  henceforward  to  take  notice  that  the  time  of 
impunity  is  at  an  end  Whoever  shall,  without  our  leave,  lay  the  hand  of  rapine  upon  our 
papers,  is  to  e.xpect  that  we  shall  vindicate  our  due,  by  the  means  which  justice  pre?.'ribes, 
and  which  are  warranted  by  the  immemorial  prescriptions  of  honourable  trade  We  shall  lay 
hold,  in  our  turn,  on  their  copies,  degrade  them  from  the  pomp  of  wide  mar^n  and  dilTuse 
typography,  contract  them  intso  a  narrow  space,  and  sell  them  at  an  humble  price ;  yet  not 
with  a  view  of  growing  rich  by  confiscations,  for  we  think  not  much  better  of  money  got  by 
punishment  than  by  crimes.  We  shall  therefore,  when  our  losses  are  repaid,  give  what  profit 
shall  remain  to  the  Magdalens  ;  for  we  know  not  who  can  be  more  properly  taxed  for  the 
support  of  penitent  prostitutes,  than  prostitutes  in  whom  there  yet  appears  neither  penitengo 
nor  shame," 


^'t'^'r-50.  OXFORD FRANCIS  BAKBFB.  281 

aDvthing  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  good-ualure ;  but  ia  lis  refusal  to  assist 
you  there  is  neither  good-nature,  fatherhood,  nor  wisdom.  It  is  the  practice 
of  good-nature  to  overlook  faults  which  have  already,  by  the  consequences, 
punished  the  delinquent.  It  is  natural  for  a  father  to  think  more  favourably 
than  others  of  his  children ;  and  it  is  always  wise  to  give  assistance,  while  a 
little  help  will  prevent  the  necessity  of  greater. 

"If  you  married  imprudently,  you  miscarried  at  your  own  hazard,  at  an  age 
when  you  had  a  right  of  choice.  It  would  be  hard  if  the  man  might  not 
choose  his  own  wife,  who  has  a  riglit  to  plead  before  the  judges  of  his  country. 

"If  your  imprudence  has  ended  in  difficulties  and  inconveniencies,  you  are 
yourself  to  support  them  ;  and,  with  the  help  of  a  little  better  healtli,  you 
would  support  tliem  and  conquer  them.  Surely,  that  want  which  accident  and 
sickness  produces,  is  to  be  supported  in  every  region  of  humanity,  thougli 
there  were  neither  friends  nor  fathers  in  the  world.  You  have  certainly  from 
your  father  tlie  highest  claim  of  charity,  though  none  of  right ;  and  thereibre 
I  would  counsel  you  to  omit  no  decent  nor  manly  degree  of  importunity.  Your 
debts  in  the  whole  are  not  large,  and  of  the  whole  but  a  small  part  is  trouble- 
some. Small  debts  are  like  small  shot ;  they  are  rattling  on  every  side,  and 
can  scarcely  be  escaped  without  a  wound :  great  debts  are  like  cannon  ;  of 
loud  noise,  but  little  danger.  You  must,  therefore,  be  enabled  to  discharge 
petty  debts,  that  you  may  have  leisure,  with  security,  to  struggle  with  the  rest. 
Neither  the  great  nor  little  debts  disgrace  you.  I  am  sure  you  have  my  esteem 
for  the  courage  with  which  you  contracted  them,  and  the  spirit  with  which  you 
endure  them.  I  wish  my  esteem  could  be  of  more  use.  I  have  been  invited, 
or  have  invited  myself,  to  several  parts  of  the  kingdom  ;  and  will  not  incom 
mode  my  dear  Lucy  by  coming  to  Lichfield,  while  her  present  lodging  is  of 
anv  use  to  her.  I  hope,  in  a  few  days,  to  be  at  leisure,  and  to  make  visits. 
Whither  I  shall  fly  is  matter  of  no  importance.'  A  man  unconnected  is  at  homo 
every  where ;  unless  he  may  be  said  to  be  at  home  no  where.  I  am  sorry, 
dear  Sir,  that  where  you  have  parents,  a  man  of  your  merits  should  not  have 
a  home.     I  wish  I  could  give  it  you.     I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  affectionately  yours, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

He  uo'v  refreshed  himself  by  an  excursion  to  Oxford,  of  which  the 
following  short  characteristical  notice,  in  his  own  words,  is  pre- 
served ' : — 

" is  now  making  tea  for  me.     I  hive  been  in  ray  gown  ever  since 

I  came  here."     It  was,  at  my  first  coining,  quite  new  aid  handsome.     I  have 
8wum  thrice,   which    I    had    disused   for   many   years.     I  have   proposed   to 

»  Gent.  Mag  1785,  p.  28S. 

*  Lord  Stowell  informs  me  that  he  prided  himself  in  being,  during  his  visits  to  Oxford, 
»ceur»telj'  acac'emic  in  all  points  ;  and  be  wore  his  gown  almost  oHentaUousli/. — C- 


282  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^59. 

Vansittart '  climbing   over   the  wall,  but  be   has  refused   me.     And  1  have 
clapped  my  hands  till  they  are  sore,  at  Dr.  King's  speech."  * 

His  negro  servant,  Francis  Barber,  having  left  liim,  and  been 
some  time  at  sea,  not  pressed  as  has  been  supposed,  but  with  his  own 
consent,  it  appears  from  a  letter  to  John  Wilkes,  Esq.,  from  Dr. 
Smollett,  that  his  master  kindly  interested  himself  in  procuring  his 
release  from  a  state  of  life  of  which  Johnson  always  expressed  the 
utmost  abhorrence.  He  said,  "  No  man  will  be  a  sailor  who  has 
contrivance  enough  to  get  himself  into  jail  ;  for  being  in  a  ship  is 
being  in  a  jail,  with  the  chance  of  being  drowned."  (Aug.  31,  IITS.) 
And  at  another  time,  "  A  man  in  a  jail  has  more  room,  better  food, 
and  commonly  better  company."  (Sept.  23,  1*173.)  The  letter  was 
as  follows  : — 

Letter  12.  TO  JOHN  WILKES,  ESQ. 

"  Chelsea,  March  16,  1759. 
"  Dear  Sir, — I  am  again  your  petitioner,  in  behalf  of  that  great  Cham^  of 
literature,  Samuel  Johnson.  His  black  servant,  whose  name  is  Francis  Barber, 
has  been  pressed  on  board  the  Stag  frigate.  Captain  Angel,  and  our  lexico- 
grapher is  in  great  distress.  He  says  the  boy  is  a  sickly  lad,  of  a  delicate 
frame,  and  particularly  subject  to  a  malady  in  his  throat,  which  renders  him 
very  unfit  for  his  Majesty's  service.  You  know  what  matter  of  a,nimosity  the 
said  Johnson  has  against  you ;  and  I  dare  say  you  desire  no  other  opportunity 
of  resenting  it,  than  that  of  laying  him  under  an  obligation.  He  was  humble 
enough  to  desire  my  assistance  on  this  occasion,  though  he  and  I  were  never 
co.ter-cousins  ;  and  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I  would  make  application  to 

1  Dr.  Robert  Vansittart,  of  the  ancient  and  respectable  family  of  that  name  in  Berksljire. 
He  was  eminent  for  learning  and  worth,  and  much  esteemed  by  Dr.  Johnson. 

2  At  the  installation  of  John,  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  as  Chancellor  of  the  University, 
July  7, 1759. 

3  In  ray  first  edition,  this  word  was  printed  Chum-,  as  it  appears  in  one  of  Mr.  Wilkes's  Mis- 
cellanies, and  I  animadverted  on  Dr.  Smollett's  ignorance ;  for  which  let  me  propitiate  the 
manes  of  that  ingenious  and  benevolent  gentleman.  Chum  was  cerl.iinly  a  mistaken  reading 
for  Cham,  the  title  of  the  sovereign  of  Tartary,  which  is  well  applied  to  Johnson,  the  monarch 
of  literature  ;  and  was  an  epithet  familiar  to  Smollett.  See  "  Roderick  Random,"  chap.  66, 
For  this  correction,  I  am  indebted  to  Lord  Palmerston,  whose  talents  and  literary  acquire- 
ments accord  well  with  liis  respectable  pedigree  of  Temple  — B. 

After  the  publication  of  the  second  edition  of  this  work,  the  author  was  furnished  by  Mi. 
Abercrombie  of  Philadelphia,  with  the  copy  of  a  letter  written  by  Dr.  John  Armstrong,  the 
poet,  to  Dr.  Smollett,  at  Leghorn,  containing  the  following  paragraph  : — "  As  to  the  K.  Bench 
patriot,  it  is  hard  to  say  from  what  motive  he  published  a  letter  of  yours  asking  some  trifling 
favour  of  him  in  behalf  of  somebody  for  whom  the  great  Cham  of  literature,  Mr.  Johnson, 
had  interested  himself."—  M. 


^'AT.  60.  FRANCIS    BARBER.  -  283 

II  _,•  friend,  Mr.  Wilkes,  who,  perhaps,  by  his  interest  with  Dr.  Flay  and  Mr. 
Elliot,  might  be  able  to  procure  the  discharge  of  his  lacquey.  It  would  be 
superfluous  to  say  more  on  this  subject,  which  I  leave  to  your  own  considera- 
tion ;  but  I  cannot  let  slip  this  opportunity  of  declaring  that  I  am,  with  the 
most  inviolable  esteem  and  attachment,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate,  obliged 
humble  servant,  "  T.  Smollett."  ' 

Mr.  Wilkes,  who  upon  all  occasions  has  acted,  as  a  private 
gentleman,  with  most  polite  liberality,  applied  to  his  friend  Sir 
George  Hay,  then  one  of  the  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty  ; 
and  Francis  Barber  was  discharged,  as  he  has  told  me,  without  any 
wish  of  his  own.  He  found  his  old  master  in  Chambers  in  the  Inner 
Temple,  and  returned  to  his  service. 

What  particular  new  scheme  of  life  Johnson  had  in  view  this 
year,  I  have  not  discovered  ;  but  that  he  meditated  one  of  some 
sort,  is  clear  from  his  private  devotions,  in  which  we  find  [24th 
March],  "  the  change  of  outward  things  which  I  am  now  to  make," 
and,  "  Grant  me  the  grace  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  the  course 
Avhich  I  am  now  beginning  may  proceed  according  to  thy  laws,  and 
end  in  the  enjoyment  of  thy  favour."  But  he  did  not,  in  fact,  make 
any  external  or  visible  change.* 

1  Dr.  Johnsou's  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Montagu  probably  began  about  this  period.  We  finu 
lu  this  year,  tlie  first  of  the  many  applications  whicli  he  made  to  the  extensive  and  unwearied 
Oi.anty  of  that  excellent  woman  : — 

To  Mrs.  Montagu. 

June  9,  1T50. 
"  Madam, — I  am  desired  by  Mrs.  Williams  to  sign  receipts  with  her  name  for  the  subscri 
bers  which  you  have  been  pleased  to  procure,  and  to  return  her  humble  thanlis  for  youi 
favour,  which  was  conferred  with  all  the  grace  that  elegance  can  add  to  beneficence.     I  am, 
madam,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson." 

It  is  necessary  to  request  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  warm  terms  in  which  Johnson 
50  frequently  expresses  his  admiration  and  esteem  for  Mrs.  Montagu,  as  we  shall  see  that  he 
afterwards  took  another  tone. — C. 

''  "  The  change  of  life,"  says  Mr.  Croker,  "  was  probably  the  breaking  up  his  establishment 
in  Gough  Square,  where  he  had  resided  for  ten  years,  and  retiring  to  chambers  in  Staple  Inn , 
wliile  Mrs.  Williams  went  into  lodgings  "  This  economical  arrangement,  as  we  learn  from 
the  following  note,  communicated  by  Mrs.  Pearson  through  Dr.  Ilarwood,  took  place  just  at 
this  period  : — 

To  Mrs,  Lucy  Porter. 

"  March  23,  1759. 

"Dear  Madam, — I  beg  your  pardon  for  having  so  long  omitted  to  write.     One  thing  or 

other  has  put  me  off.     I  have  this  day  moved  my  things,  and  you  are  now  to  direct  to  me  at 

Staple  Inn,  London.     I  hope,  my  dear,  you  are  well,  and  Kitty  mends.     I  wish  her  success  in 

her  trade,  I  am  going  to  publish  a  little  story  book  [Kasselas],  which  I  will  send  you  when  it  is 


284  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  -^^'• 

Letter  IS.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  May  IC,  1759. 

"Dear  Madam, — I  am  almost  ashamed  to  tell  you  that  all  your  letters  came 
safe,  and  that  I  have  been  always  very  well,  but  hindered,  I  hardly  know  how, 
from  writing.  I  sent,  last  week,  some  of  my  works,  one  for  you,  one  for  your 
aunt  Hunter,  who  was  with  my  poor  dear  mother  when  she  died,  one  for  Mr. 
Howard,  and  one  for  Kitty. 

"  I  beg  you  my  dear,  to  write  often  to  me,  and  tell  me  how  you  Hke  my  httle 

book.     I  am,  dear  love,  your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Lktter  74.  TO  MRS.  MONTAGU. 

»'  Gray's  Inn,  Dec.  17, 1759. 
"  Madam, — Goodness  so  conspicuous  as  yours  will  be  often  solicited,  and 
perhaps  sometimes  solicited  by  those  who  have  little  pretension  to  your 
favour.  It  is  now  my  turn  to  introduce  a  petitioner,  but  such  as  I  have  reason 
to  believe  you  will  think  worthy  of  your  notice.  Mrs.  Ogle,  who  kept  (he 
music-room  in  Soho  Square,  a  woman  who  struggles  with  great  industry  for 
the  support  of  eight  children,  hopes  by  a  benefit  concert  to  set  herself  free 
from  a  few  debts,  which  she  cannot  otherwise  discharge.  She  ha?,  J  know 
not  why,  so  high  an  opinion  of  me  as  to  believe  that  you  will  pay  less  regard 
to  her  application  than  to  mine.  You  know,  madam,  I  am  sure  you  know, 
how  hard  it  is  to  deny,  and  therefore  would  not  wonder  at  my  compliance, 
though  I  were  to  suppress  a  motive  which  you  know  not,  the  vanity  of  being 
supposed  to  be  of  any  importance  to  Mrs.  Montagu.  But  though  I  may  be 
willing  to  see  the  world  deceived  for  my  advantage,  I  am  not  deceived  myself, 
for  I  know  that  Mrs.  Ogle  will  owe  whatever  favours  she  shall  receive  from 
the  patronage  which  we  humbly  entreat  on  this  occasion,  much  more  to  your 
compassion  for  honesty  in  distress,  than  to  tlie  request  of,  Madam,  your  most 
obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

At  this  time  there  being  a  competition  among  the  architects  of 
London  to  be  employed  in  the  building  of  Blackfriars'  Bridge,  a 
question  was  very  warmly  agitated  whether  semicircular  or  ellipti- 
cal arches  were  preferable.  In  the  design  oifered  by  Mr.  Mylne  the 
elliptical  form  was  adopted,  and  therefore  it  was  the  great  object 
of  his  rivals  to  attack  it.  Johnson's  regard  for  his  friend  Mr.  Gwyn 
induced  him  to  engage  in  this  controversy  against  Mr.  Mylne  ;    and 

out.    Write  to  me,  my  dearest  girl,  for  I  am  always  glad  to  hear  from  you.    I  am,  my  dear, 
your  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson  " 


^'^^'^-  W.  MYLNE    THE    ARCHITECT.  285 

after  bciug  at  considerable  pains  to  study  the  subject,  he  wrote 
three  several  letters  in  the  Gazetteer,  in  opposition  to  his  plan. 

If  it  should  be  remarked  that  this  was  a  controversy  which  lay 
quite  out  of  Johnson's  way,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  after  all,  his 
employing  his  powers  of  reasoning  and  eloquence  upon  a  subject 
which  he  had  studied  on  the  moment,  is  not  more  strange  than  what 
we  often  observe  in  lawyers,  who,  as  Quicquia  agunt  homines  is  the 
matter  of  lawsuits,  are  sometimes  obliged  to  pick  up  a  temporary 
knowledge  of  an  art  or  science,  of  which  they  understood  nothing 
till  their  brief  was  delivered,  and  appear  to  be  much  masters  of  it. 
In  like  manner,  members  of  the  legislature  frequently  introduce  and 
expatiate  upon  subjects  of  which  they  have  informed  themselves  for 
the  occasion. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

1^60—1763. 

lUsceUaneou^  Essays — Origin  of  Johnson's  Acquaintance  with  Murphy — Akenside  and  Rolt— 
Maclienzie  and  Eccles — Letters  to  Baretti — Painting  and  Music— Sir  George  Staunton— 
Letter  to  a  Lady  soliciting  Church  Prefecment  for  her  Son — The  King  confers  on  Johnson  a 
Pension  of  £300  a  Year — Letters  to  Lord  Bute — Visit  to  Devonshire,  with  Sir  Joshua  Key* 
nolds — Character  of  Collins — Dedication  of  KooU's  Tasso. 

In  1760  he  wrote  "An  Address  of  the  Painters  to  George  III.  on 
his  Accession  to  the  Throne  of  these  Kingdoras/'f  which  no  mon- 
arch ever  ascended  with  more  sincere  congratulations  from  his 
people.  Two  generations  of  foreign  princes  had  prepared  their 
minds  to  rejoice  in  having  again  a  King,  who  gloried  in  being  "  born 
a  Briton."  ^  He  also  wrote  for  Mr.  Baretti  the  Dedication^  of  his 
Italian  and  English  Dictionary,  to  the  Marquis  of  Abreu,  then  En- 
voy-Extraordinary from  Spain  at  the  Court  of  Great  Britain. 

Johnson  was  now  either  very  idle,  or  very  busy  with  his  Shak- 
speare  ;  for  I  can  find  no  other  public  composition  by  hiiu  except 
an  Introduction  to  the  Proceedings  of  the  Committee  for  Clothing 
the  French  Prisoners  ;*  one  of  the  many  proofs  that  he  was  ever 
awake  to  the  calls  of  humanity  ;  and  an  account  which  ho  gave  in 
the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  Mr.  Tytler's  acute  and  able  vindication 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.*  The  generosity  of  Johnson's  feelings 
shines  forth  in  the  following  sentence  : — 

"  It  has  now  been  fashionable,  for  near,  half  a  century,  to  de/ame  and  vilify 
the  house  of  Stuart,  and  to  exalt  and  magnify  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  The 
Stuarts  have  found  few  apologists,  for  the  dead  cannot  pay  for  praise ;  and 
who  will,  without  reward,  oppose  the  tide  of  popularity?  Yet  there  remain? 
still  among  us,  not  wholly  extinguished,  a  zeal  for  truth,  a  desire  of  estabhshing 
right  in  ojiposition  to  fashion." 

>    "  Born  and  educated  In  this  country,  I  glory  In  the  name  of  Briton." — Georqb  III.'s  flirl. 
<;peecb  to  Wa  i>arliainent. 
S8» 


'*'*^-  si-  MISCELLANIES.  287 

In  this  year  I  hav6  not  discovered  a  single  private  tetter  written 
by  him  to  any  of  liis  friends.  It  sliould  seem,  however,  that  he  had 
at  this  period  a  floating  intention  of  writing  a  history  of  the  recent 
and  wonderful  successes  of  the  British  arms  in  all  quarters  of  the 
globe  ;  for  among  his  resolutions  or  memorandums,  September  18, 
there  is,  "  Send  for  books  for  Hist,  of  War."  *  How  much  is  it  to 
be  regretted  that  this  intention  was  not  fulfilled.  His  majestic 
expression  would  have  carried  down  to  the  latest  posterity  the 
glorious  achievements  of  his  country,  with  the  same  fervent  glow 
which  they  produced  on  the  mind  at  the  time.  He  would  have 
been  under  no  temptation  to  deviate  in  any  degree  from  truth,  which 
he  held  very  sacred,  or  to  take  a  licence,  which  a  learned  divine  told 
me  he  once  seemed,  in  a  conversation,  jocularly  to  allow  to  histo- 
rians. "  There  are  (said  he)  inexcusable  lies,  and  consecrated  lies. 
For  instance,  we  are  told  that  on  the  arrival  of  the  news  of  the 
unfortunate  battle  of  Foutenoy,  every  heart  beat,  and  every  eye  was 
in  tears.  Now,  we  know  that  no  man  eat  his  dinner  the  worse,  but 
there  should  have  been  all  this  concern  ;  and  to  say  there  was 
(smiling),  may  be  reckoned  a  consecrated  lie." 

This  year  Mr.  Murphy,  having  thought  himself  ill-treated  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Francklin,"  who  was  one  of  the  writers  of  "  The  Critical 
Review,"  published  an  indignant  vindication  in  "  A  Poetical  Epistle 
to  Samuel  Johnson,  A.M.,"  in  which  he  compliments  Johnson  in  a 
just  and  elegant  manner  : — 

1  The  following  memorandum,  made  on  his  birthday  in  this  year,  may  be  quoted  as  an 
example  of  the  rules  and  resolutions  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  making,  'or  the  guidanoe 
of  his  moral  conduct  and  literary  studies  : — 

"  Sept.  IS.    Resolved,  D  {eo)  j  {uvante), 

To  combat  notions  of  obligation  : 

To  apply  to  study  : 

To  reclaim  imaginations 

To  consult  the  resolves  on  Tetty's  cofl^ : 

To  rise  early : 

To  study  religion : 

To  go  to  church : 

To  drink  less  strong  liquors : 

To  keep  a  journal :  , 

To  oppose  laziness,  by  doing  what  is  to  be  done  to-morrow  : 

Rise  early  as  I  can  : 

Send  for  books  for  Hist,  of  War: 

Put  books  in  order  : 

Scheme  of  life." 

•    Dr.  Thomas  Francklin,  the  translator  of  Sophocles  and  Lucian.    He  died  In  1784. 


§88  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^* 

"Transcendent  Genius!  whose  prolific  vein 
Ne'er  knew  the  frigid  poet's  toil  and  pain ; 

To  whom  Apollo  opens  all  his  store,  * 

And  every  muse  presents  her  sacred  lore ; 
Say.  powerful  Johnson,  whence  thy  verse  is  fraught 
With  so  much  grace,  such  energy  of  thought ; 
Whether  thy  Juvenal  instructs  the  age 
In  chaster  numbers,  and  new-points  his  rage  ; 
Or  fair  Irene  sees,  alas!  too  late, 
Her  innocence  exchanged  for  guilty  state  ; 
Whate'er  you  write,  in  every  golden  line 
Sublimity  and  elegance  combine  ; 
Thy  nervous  phrase  impresses  every  soul, 
While  harmony  gives  rapture  to  the  whole." 

Again,  towards  the  conclusion  : 

"Thou  then,  my  friend,  who  see'st  the  dang'rous  strife 
In  which  some  demon  bids  me  plunge  my  life, 
To  the  Aonian  fount  direct  my  feet. 
Say,  where  the  Nine  thy  lonely  musings  meet  ? 
Where  warbles  to  thy  ear  the  sacred  throng, 
Thy  moral  sense,  thy  dignity  of  song? 
Tell,  for  you  can,  by  what  unerring  art 
You  wake  to  finer  feelings  every  heart; 
In  each  bright  page  some  truth  important  give, 
And  bid  to  future  times  thy  Rambler  live." 

I  take  tbis  opportunity  to  relate  the  manner  in  which  an  acquaint 
ance  first  commenced  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Murphy. 
During  the  publication  of  "  The  Gray's  Inn  Journal,"  a  periodical 
paper  which  was  successfully  carried  on  by  Mr.  Murphy  alone,  when 
a  very  young  man,  he  happened  to  be  in  the  country  with  Mr. 
Foote,  and  having  mentioned  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  London 
in  order  to  get  ready  for  the  press  one  of  the  numbers  of  that 
journal,  Foote  said  to  him,  "You  need  not  go  on  that  account. 
Here  is  a  French  magazine,  in  which  you  will  find  a  very  pretty 
oriental  tale  ;  translate  thtit,  and  send  it  to  your  printer."  Mr. 
Murphy  having  read  the  tale,  was  highly  pleased  with  it,  and  fol- 
lowed Foote's  advice.  When  he  returned  to  town,  this  tale  was 
pointed  out  to  him  in  "  The  Rambler,"  from  whence  it  had  been 


^^^■t>-  LETTER  TO   LANGTON.  289 

translated  into  the  French  magazine.'  Mr.  Murphy  then  waited 
upon  Johnson,  to  explain  this  curious  incident.  His  talents,  litera- 
ture, and  gentleman-like  manners,  were  soon  perceived  by  Johnson, 
and  a  friendship  was  formed  which  was  never  broken. 

Letter  75.  TO  BEXXET  LANGTOX,  ESQ. 

At  Lanrjton. 

"  October  18,  1760. 

"Dear  Sir, — You  that  travel  about  the  world,  have  more  materials  for  let- 
ters, than  I  who  stay  at  home ;  and  should,  therefore,  write  with  frequency 
equal  to  your  opportunities.  I  should  be  glad  to  have  all  England  surveyed  by 
you,  if  you  would  impart  your  observations  in  narratives  as  agreeable  as  your 
last.  Knowledge  is  always  to  be  wished  to  those  who  can  communicate  it  well. 
While  you  have  been  riding  and  running,  and  seeing  the  tombs  of  the  learned, 
and  the  camps  of  the  valiant,  I  have  only  staid  at  home,  and  intended  to  do 
great  things,  which  I  have  not  done.  Beau''  went  away  to  Cheshire,  and  has 
not  yet  found  his  way  1)ack.     Chambers  passed  the  vacation  at  Oxford. 

"I  am  very  sincerely  solicitous  for  the  preservation  or  curing  of  Mr.  Lang- 
ton's  sight,  and  am  glad  that  the  chirurgeon  at  Coventry  gives  him  so  much 
hope.  Mr.  Sharp  is  of  opinion  that  the  tedious  maturation  of  the  cataract  is 
a  vulgar  error,  and  that  it  may  be  removed  as  soon  as  it  is  formed.  This 
notion  deserves  to  be  considered ;  I  doubt  whether  it  be  universally  true ;  but 
if  it  be  true  in  some  cases,  and  those  cases  can  be  distinguished,  it  may  save  a 
long  and  uncomfortable  delay. 

"  Of  dear  Mrs.  Langton  you  give  me  no  account ;  which  is  the  less  friendly, 
as  you  know  how  highly  I  think  of  her,  and  how  much  I  interest  myself  in  her 
health.  I  suppose  you  told  her  of  my  opinion,  and  likewise  suppose  it  was  not 
followed ;  however  I  still  believe  it  to  be  right. 

"  Let  me  hear  from  you  again,  wherever  you  are,  or  whatever  you  are  doing ; 
whether  you  wander  or  sit  still,  plant  trees  or  make  Rudia,^  play  with  your 
sisters  or  muse  alone  ;  and  in  return  I  will  tell  you  the  success  of  Sheridan,  who 
at  this  instant  is  playing  Cato,  and  has  already  played  Richard  twice..  He  had 
more  company  the  second  than  the  first  night,  and  will  make  I  belie /e  a  good 
figure  in  the  whole,  though  his  faults  seem  to  be  very  many ;  some  of  natural 
deficience,  and  some  of  laborious  affectation.     He  has,  I  think,  no  power  of 

1  When  Mr.  Murphy  first  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson,  he  was  about  thirty-one 
yeiirs  old.  He  died  at  Knightsbridge,  June  IS,  1S05,  in  his  eighty-second  year.  The  extra- 
ordinary paper  mentioned  in  the  text  is  Xo.  38  of  the  second  series  [of  the  Gray's  Inn  Jour- 
Dai],  published  on  June  15, 1754 ;  which  Is  a  retranslation  from  the  French  version  of  th» 
Rambler,  No.  190.— M. 

-  Tophara  Beauclerlf,  Esq. 

'  Essays  with  that  title,  written  about  this  time  by  Mr.  Lington,  but  not  published. 
VOL.  I.  13 


20O  I.JFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^'^ 

assuming  either  that  dignity  or  elegance  which  some  men,  7\hc  liave  little  of 
either  in  common  life,  can  exhibit  on  the  stage.  His  voice  when  strained  is 
unpleasing,  and  when  low  is  not  always  heard.  He  seems  to  think  too  much  on 
the  audience,  and  turns  his  face  too  often  to  the  galleries. 

"However,  I  wisli  him  well;  and  among  other  reasons,  because  I  like  h\3 
wife.'     Make  haste  to  write  to,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."' 

In  1*161  Johnson  appears  to  have  done  little.  He  was  still,  no 
doubt,  proceeding  in  his  edition  of  Shakspeare  ;  but  w'aat  advances 
he  made  in  it  cannot  be  ascertained.  He  certainly  was  at  this  time 
not  active  ;  for  in  his  scrupulous  examination  of  himself  on  Easter 
eve,  he  laments,  in  his  too  rigorous  mode  of  censuring  his  own  con- 
duct, that  his  life,  since  the  communion  of  the  preceding  Easter,  had 
been  "dissipated  and  useless."'  He,  however,  contJbuted  this 
year  the  Preface*  to  "  Eolt's  Dictionary  of  Trade  aad  Commerce," 
in  which  he  displays  such  a  clear  and  comprehensive  knowledge  of 
the  subject,  as  might  lead  the  reader  to  think  that  its  author  had 
devoted  all  his  Hfe  to  it.  I  asked  him,  whether  he  knew  much  of 
Rolt,  and  of  his  work.  "  Sir  (said  he),  I  never  saw  the  man,  and 
never  read  the  book.  The  booksellers  wanted  a  Preface  to  a  Dic- 
tionary of  Trade  and  Commerce.  I  knew  very  well  what  such  a  Dic- 
tionary should  be,  and  I  wrote  a  preface  accordingly."  Rolt,  who 
wrote  a  great  deal  for  the  booksellers,  was,  as  Johnson  told  me,  a 
singular  character.     Though  not  in  the  least  acquainted  with  him, 

•  Mrs.  Sheridan  was  author  of  "  Memoirs  of  Jliss  Sydney  Biddulph,"  a  novel  of  great  merit, 
and  of  some  other  pieces. — Boswkll.  Her  last  work  is,  perhaps,  her  best — Nourjahad,  an 
eastern  tale :  in  which  a  pure  morality  is  inculcated,  with  a  great  deal  of  fancy  and  consider- 
able force.  No  wonder  that  Dr.  Johnson  should  have  liJced  her  !  Dr.  Parr,  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Moore,  published  in  his  Life  of  11.  B.  Sheridan  (vol.  i.  p.  11),  thus  mentions  her  : — "I  once  or 
twice  met  his  mother— she  was  gwi^e  celestial!  both  her  virtues  and  her  genius  were  highly 
esteemed."  This  amiable  and  accomplished  woman  died  at  Blois,  in  September,  1766,  as  Mr. 
Moore  states,  and  as  is  proved  by  a  letter  of  Mr.  Sheridan's,  deploring  that  event,  dated  in 
October,  1766  ;  though  the  Biographical  Dictionary,  and  other  authorities,  placed  her  death  in 
1767— C. 

2  Sir  Frederick  Madden  has  favoured  me  with  the  following  interesting  extract  from  a  letter 
of  Birch  to  Lord  Royston,  dated  London,  October  25,  1760  : — "  Sam.  Johnson  is  in  treaty  with 
certain  booksellers  to  supply  three  papers  a  week,  in  the  nature  ot  Essays,  like  the  Rambler, 
at  the  unusual  rate  (if  the  fact  be  true),  it  is  said,  of  three  guineas  a  paper.  But  I  question- 
whether  the  temptation  of  even  so  liberal  a  reward  will  awaken  him  ft  om  his  natural  indo- 
lence ;  for  while  his  Rambler  was  publishing,  which  came  out  but  twice  »  week,  the  proprietor 
of  it.  Cave,  told  me  that  copy  was  .seldom  sent  to  the  press  till  late  in  thf  light  before  the  day 
of  publication." — M.^rkland. 
Prayers  and  Meditations. 


^■'■'^''•^l-  AKENSIDE    AND    ROLT.  291 

he  used  to  sa}',  "  I  am  just  come  from  Sam.  Johnson."  This  was 
a  sufficient  specimen  of  his  vanity  and  impudence.  But  he  gave  a 
more  eminent  proof  of  it  in  our  sister  kingdom,  as  Dr.  Johnson 
informed  me.  When  Akenside's  "  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination  " 
first  came  out,  he  did  not  put  his  name  to  the  poem.  Kolt  went 
over  to  Dubhn,  published  an  edition  of  it,  and  put  his  own  name  to 
it.  Upon  the  fame  of  this  he  lived  for  several  months,  being  enter- 
tained at  the  best  tables  as  "  the  ingenious  Mr.  Rolt."  *  His  con- 
versation, indeed,  did  not  discover  much  of  the  fire  of  a  poet ;  but 
it  was  recollected,  that  both  Addison  and  Thomson  were  equally 
dull  till  excited  by  wine.  Akenside  having  been  informed  of  this 
imposition,  vindicated  his  right  by  publishing  the  poem  with  its  real 
author's  name.  Several  instances  of  such  literary  fraud  have  been 
detected.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Campbell,  of  St.  Andrew's,  wrote  "  Au 
Enquiry  into  the  original  of  Moral  Virtue,"  the  manuscript  of  which 
he  sent  to  Mr.  Innes,  a  clergyman  in  England,  who  was  his  country- 
man and  acquaintance.  Innes  published  it  with  his  own  name  tc  "jt  ; 
and  before  the  imposition  was  discovered,  obtained  considerable 
promotion,  as  a  reward  of  his  merit. ^  The  celebrated  Dr.  Hugh 
Blair,  and  his  cousin  Mr.  George  Bannatine,  when  students  in 
divinity,  wrote  a  poem,  entitled  "  The  Resurrection,"  copies  of 
which  were  handed  about  in  manuscript.  They  were,  at  length, 
very  much  surprised  to  see  a  pompous  edition  of  it  in  folio,  dedi- 
cated to  the  Princess  Dowager  of  Wales,  by  a  Dr.  Douglas,  as  hjs 
own.  Some  years  ago  a  little  novel,  entitled  "  Tire  Man  of  Feel- 
ing," was  assumed  by  Mr.  Eccles,  a  young  Irish  clergyman,  who  was 
afterwards  drowned  near  Bath.  He  had  been  at  the  pains  to  tran-' 
scribe  the  whole  book,  with  blottings,  interlineations,  and  correc- 
tions, that  it  might  be  shown  to  several  people  as  an  original.  It 
was,  in  truth,  the  production  of  Mr.  Henry  Mackenzie,  an  attorney 

•  I  have  had  enquhy  made  in  Ireland  as  to  this  story,  but  do  not  find  it  recollected  there. 
I  give  it  on  the  authority  of  Dr.  Johnson,  to  which  may  be  added  that  of  the  "  Biographical 
Dictionary,"  and  "  Biographia  Dramatica  ;"  in  botli  of  which  it  has  stood  many  years.  Mr. 
Malone  observes,  that  the  truth  probably  is,  not  that  an  edition  was  pubUshed  with  Rolfs 
name  in  the  title-page,  but,  that  the  poem  being  then  anonymous,  Rolt  acquiesced  in  its  being 
attribute]  to  him  in  conversation. — Borwell.  In  the  late  edition  of  Chalmers's  Biographical 
Dictionary,  the  foregoing  story  is  indeed  noticed,  but  with  an  observation  that  it  lias  been 
completely  refuted.     Richard  Rolt  died  in  March,  1770. — 0. 

*  I  have  both  the  books.  Innes  was  the  clergyman  who  brought  Psalmanazar  to  England, 
And  was  an  accomplice  in  his  extraordinary  fiction. 


292  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  "•l- 

iu  the  Exchequer  at  Edinburgh,  who  is  the  author  ot  several  other 
ingenious  pieces  ;  but  the  belief  with  regard  to  Mr.  Eccles  became 
so  general,  that  it  was  thought  necessary  for  Messieurs  Strahan  and 
Cadell  to  publish  an  advertisement  in  the  newspapers,  contradicting 
the  report,  and  mentioning  that  they  purchased  the  copy-right  of 
Mr.  Mackenzie.  I  can  conceive  this  kind  of  fraud  to  be  very  easily 
practised  with  successful  effrontery.  IhQ  filiation  of  a  literary  per- 
formance is  difficult  of  proof  ;  seldom  is  there  any  witness  present  at 
its  birth.  A  man,  either  in  confidence  or  by  improper  means, 
obtains  possession  of  a  copy  of  it  in  manuscript,  and  boldly  pub- 
lishes it  as  his  own.  The  true  author,  in  many  cases,  may  not  be 
able  to  make  his  title  clear.  Johnson,  indeed,  from  the  peculiar 
features  of  his  literary  offspring,  might  bid  defiance  to  any  attempt 
to  appropriate  them  to  others  : 

"But  Shakspeare's magic  could  not  copied  be  ; 
Within  that  circle  none  durst  walk  but  he!" 

Letter  76.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER. 

"Inner  Temple  Lane,  Jan.  18, 1'lbL 

"  Dearest  Madam, — I  ought  to  have  begim  the  new  year  with  repairing  the 
omissions  of  the  last,  and  to  have  told  you  sooner,  what  I  can  always  tell  you 
with  truth,  that  I  wish  you  long  life  and  happiness,  always  increasing  till  it 
shall  end  at  last  iu  the  happiness  of  heaven. 

"  I  hope,  my  dear,  you  are  well ;  I  am  at  present  pretty  mucli  disordered  by 
n  cold  and  cougl^;  I  have  just  been  blooded,  and  hope  I  shall  be  better. 

"  Pray  give  my  love  to  Kitty.  I  sliould  be  glad  to  hear  that  she  goes  on 
well.     I  am,  my  dearest  dear,  your  most  aflectionate  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

He  this  year  lent  his  friendly  assistance  to  correct  and  improve  a 
pamphlet  written  by  Mr.  Gwyn,  the  architect,  entitled,  "  Thoughts 
on  the  Coronation  of  George  III."* 

Johnson  had  now  for  some  years  admitted  Mr.  Baretti  to  his  inti- 
macy ;  nor  did  their  friendship  cease  upon  their  being  separated  by 
Baretti's  revisiting  his  native  country,  as  appears  from  Johnson's 
.etters  to  him. 


•^''''''-  f*  LETTER   TO    liAUETTI.  293 

LETTEft  n.  TO  MR.  JOSEPH  BARETTI, 

At  Milan} 

"London,  June  10,  176L 

"  You  reproach  me  very  often  with  parsimony  of  writing ;  but  you  may 
discover,  by  the  extent  of  my  paper,  that  I  design  to  recompense  rarity  by 
length.  A  short  letter  to  a  distant  friend  is,  in  ray  opinion,  an  insult  Ulie  that 
of  a  slight  bow  or  cursory  salutation ; — a  proof  of  unwillingness  to  do  much, 
even  where  there  is  a  necessity  of  doing  something.  Yet  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, that  he  who  continues  the  same  course  of  life  in  the  same  place,  will 
have  little  to  tell.  One  week  and  one  year  are  very  like  one  another.  The 
silent  changes  made  by  him  are  not  always  perceived ;  and  if  they  are  not 
perceived,  cannot  be  recounted.  I  have  risen  and  lain  down,  talked  and 
mused,  while  you  have  roved  over  a  considerable  part  of  Europe ;  yet  I  have 
not  envied  my  Baretti  any  of  his  pleasures,  though,  perhaps,  I  have  envied 
others  his  company :  and  I  am  glad  to  have  other  nations  made  acquainted 
with  the  character  of  the  English,  by  a  traveller  who  has  so  nicely  inspected 
our  manners,  and  so  successfully  studied  our  literature.  I  received  your  kind 
letter  from  Falmouth,  in  which  you  gave  me  notice  of  your  departure  for 
Lisbon ;  and  another  from  Lisbon,  in  which  you  told  me  that  you  were  to 
leave  Portugal  in  a  few  days.  To  either  of  these  how  could  any  answer  be 
returned  ?  I  have  had  a  third  from  Turin,  complaining  that  I  have  not  answered 
the  former.  Your  English  style  still  continues  in  its  purity  and  vigour.  With 
vigour  your  genius  will  supply  it ;  but  its  purity  must  be  continued  by  close 
attention.  To  use  two  languages  fainiharly,  and  without  contaminating  one  b; 
the  other,  is  very  difficult  ;  and  to  use  more  than  two,  is  hardly  to  be  hoped 
The  praises  which  some  have  received  for  their  multiplicity  of  languages,  maj 
be  sufficient  to  excite  industry,  but  can  hardly  generate  confidence. 

"  I  know  not  whether  I  can  heartily  rejoice  at  the  kind  reception  which 
you  have  found,  or  at  the  popularity  to  which  you  are  exalted.  I  am  wiUing 
that  your  merit  should  be  distinguished  ;  but  cannot  wish  that  your  affections 
may  be  gained.  1  would  have  you  happy  wherever  yoU  are  :  yet  I  would  have 
you  wish  to  return  to  England.  If  ever  you  visit  us  again,  you  will  find  the 
kindness  of  your  friends  undiminished.  To  tell  you  how  many  inquiries  are 
made  after  you,  would  be  tedious,  or  if  not  tedious,  would  be  vain  ;  because 
you  may  be  told  in  a  very  few  words,  that  all  who  knew  you  wish  you  well 
and  that  all  that  you  embraced  at  your  departure,  will  caress  you  at  you 
return  :  therefore  do  not  let  Italian  academicians  nor  Italian  ladies  drive  ui 
from  your  thoughts.  You  may  find  among  us  what  you  will  leave  behind,  soft 
tmiles  and  easy  sonnets.     Yet  I  shall  not  wonder  if  all  our  invitations  should  b< 

J  The  originals  of  Dr.  Johnson's  three  letters  to  Mr.  Baretti,  which  are  among  the  very  bet 
he  ever  wrote,  were  communicated  to  the  proprietors  of  that  instructive  and  ejegant  montht 
Siiscellany,  "  The  European  Magazine,"  in  which  they  first  appeared. 


894  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*^ 

rejected :  for  there  is  a  pleasure  in  being  considerable  at  home,  which  is  not 
easily  resisted. 

"By  conducting  Mr.  Southwell  to  Venice,  you  fulfilled,  I  know,  tha  original 
contract;  yet  I  would  wish  you  not  wholly  to  lose  him  from  your  notice,  but 
to  recommend  him  to  such  acquaintance  as  may  best  secure  him  from  suffering 
by  his  own  follies,  and  to  take  such  general  care  both  of  his  safety  and  his 
interest  as  may  come  within  your  power.  His  relations  will  thank  you  for  any 
such  gratuitous  attention :  at  least,  they  will  not  blame  you  for  any  evil  that 
may  happen,  whether  they  thank  you  or  not  for  any  good. 

"  You  know  that  we  have  a  new  king  and  a  new  parliament.  Of  the  new 
parliament  Fitzherbert  is  a  member.  We  were  so  weary  of  our  old  king,  that 
we  are  much  pleased  with  his  successor;  of  whom  we  are  so  much  inclined  to 
hope  great  things,  that  most  of  us  begin  already  to  believe  them.  The  young 
man  is  hitherto  blameless ;  but  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  expect  much  from 
the  immaturity  of  juvenile  years,  and  the  ignorance  of  princely  education.  Uo 
has  been  long  in  the  hands  of  the  Scots,  and  has  already  favoured  them  more 
than  the  English  will  contentedly  endure.  But,  perhaps,  he  scarcely  knows 
whom  he  has  distinguished,  or  whom  he  has  disgusted.  - 

"  The  artists  have  instituted  a  yearly  Exhibition  of  pictures  and  statues,  in 
imitation,  as  I  am  told,  of  foreign  academies.  This  year  was  the  second  Ex- 
hibition. They  please  themselves  much  with  the  multitude  of  spectators,  and 
imagine  that  the  English  school  will  rise  in  reputation.  Reynolds  is  without  a 
rival,  and  continues  to  add  thousands  to  thousands,  which  he  deserves  among 
other  excellencies,  by  retaining  his  kindness  for  Baretti.  This  Exhibition  has 
filled  the  heads  of  the  artists  and  lovers  of  art.  Surely  life,  if  it  be  not  long, 
is  tedious,  since  we  are  forced  to  call  in  the  assistance  of  so  many  trifles  to  rid 
us  of  our  time, — of  that  time  which  never  can  return.^ 

'  Of  the  beauties  of  painting,  notwithstanding  the  many  eulogiums  on  that  art  wliich,  after 
the  commencement  of  his  friendshiij  witli  Su-  Joshua  Reynolds,  he  inserted  in  his  writings, 
Johnson  had  not  the  least  conception  ;  and  the  notice  of  this  defect  led  me  to  mention  the 
following  fact.  One  evening,  at  the  club,  I  came  in  with  a  small  roll  of  prints,  which,  in  the 
afternoon,  I  had  picked  up :  1  thinlc  they  were  landscapes  of  Perelle,  and  laying  it  down  with 
my  hat,  Jolinson's  curiosity  prompted  him  to  take  it  up  and  unroll  it :  he  viewed  the  prints 
severally  with  great  attention,  and  asked  me  what  sort  of  pleasure  such  things  could  afford 
me  ?  I  replied  that,  as  representations  of  nature,  containing  an  assemblage  of  such  particu- 
lars as  render  rural  scenes  delightful,  they  presented  to  my  mind  the  objects  themselves,  and 
that  my  imagination  realised  the  prospect  before  me.  He  said,  that  was  more  than  his  wouIq 
■  do,  for  that  in  his  whole  life  he  was  never  capable  of  discerning  the  least  resemblance  of  ani 
kind  between  a  picture  and  the  subject  it  was  intended  to  represent.  To  the  delights  of  music, 
he  was  equally  insensible  :  neither  voice  nor  instrument,  nor  the  harmony  of  concordant 
Bounds,  had  power  over  his  affections,  or  even  to  engage  his  attention.  Of  music  in  general, 
he  has  been  heard  to  say,  "  It  excites  in  my  mind  no  ideas,  and  hinders  me  from  contem- 
plating my  own  ;"  and  of  a  fine  singer,  or  instrumental  performer,  that  "  he  had  the'nierit  of 
a  Canary-bird."  Not  that  his  hearing  was  so  defective  as  to  account  for  this  insensibility,  but 
he  laboured  under  the  misfortune  which  he  has  noted  in  the  Life  of  Barretier,  and  is  common 
to  more  persons  than,  in  this  musical  age,  are  willing  to  confess  it — of  wanting  that  acjilitional 
eense  or  faculty,  which  renders  music  grateful  to  the  human  ear. — Hawkins. 


*''-^T-S2.  LETTER   TO    BARETTI.  295 

"  1  know  my  Baretti  will  not  be  satisfied  with  a  letter  in  wliicb  I  give  liim 
no  account  of  myself:  yec  what  account  shall  I  give  him?  I  have  not,  since 
•he  day  of  our  separation,  suffered  or  done  anything  considerable.  The  only 
shange  in  my  way  of  life  is,  that  I  have  frequented  the  theatre  more  than  in 
former  seasons.  But  I  have  gone  thither  only  to  escape  from  myself.  We 
have  had  many  new  farces,  and  the  comedy  called  'The  Jealous  Wife,'  '  which, 
though  not  written  with  much  genius,  was  yet  so  well  adapted  to  the  stage, 
and  so  well  exhibited  by  the  actors,  that  it  was  crowded  for  near  twenty 
nights.  I  am  digressing  from  myself  to  the  playhouse ;  but  a  barren  plant 
must  be  filled  with  episodes.  Of  myself  I  have  nothing  to  say,  but  that  I  have 
hitherto  lived  without  the  concurrence  of  my  own  judgment ;  yet  I  continue 
to  flatter  myself,  that,  when  you  return,  you  will  find  me  mended.  I  do  not 
wonder  that,  where  the  monastic  life  is  permitted,  every  order  findy  votaries, 
and  every  monastery  inhabitants.  Men  will  submit  to  any  rule,  by  which  they 
may  be  exempted  from  the  tyranny  of  caprice  and  of  chance.  They  are  glad  to 
supply  by  external  authority  their  own  want  of  constancy  and  resolution,  and 
court  the  government  of  others,  when  long  experience  has  convinced  them  of 
their  own  inability  to  govern  themselves.  If  I  were  to  visit  Italy,  my  curiosity 
would  be  more  attracted  by  convents  than  by  palaces ;  though  I  am  afraid 
that  I  should  find  expectation  in  both  places  equally  disappointed,  and  life  in 
both  places  supported  with  impatience  and  quitted  with  reluctance.  That  it 
must  be  so  soon  quitted,  is  a  powerful  remedy  against  impatience  ;  but  what 
shall  free  us  from  reluctance  ?  Those  who  have  endeavoured  to  teach  us  to 
die  well,  have  taught  few  to  die  willingly  :  yet  I  cannot  but  hope  that  a  good 
life  might  end  at  last  in  a  contented  death. 

"  You  see  to  what  a  train  of  thought  I  am  drawn  by  the  mention  of  myself. 
Let  me  now  turn  my  attention  upon  you.  I  hope  you  take  care  to  keep  an 
exact  journal,  and  to  register  all  occurrences  and  observations  ;  for  your 
friends  here  expect  such  a  book  of  travels  as  has  not  been  often  seen.  You 
have  given  us  good  specimens  in  your  letters  from  Lisbon.  I  wish  you  had 
staid  longer  in  Spain,  for  no  country  is  less  known  to  the  rest  of  Europe  ;  but 
the  quickness  of  your  discernment  must  make  amends  for  the  celerity  of  your 
motions.  He  that  knows  which  way  to  direct  his  view,  sees  much  in  a  little 
tjme. 

"  Write  to  me  very  often,  and  I  will  not  neglect  to  write  to  you  ;  and  I  may, 
perhaps,  in  time,  get  something  to  write:  at  least  you  will  know  by  my  letters, 
(whatever  else  they  may  have  or  want,  that  I  continue  to  be,  your  most  affec- 
•jonate  friend,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  1162,  he  wrote  for  the  Rev.  Dr.  Keunedy,  rector  of  Bradley 

1  Colman's  comedy  of  the  Jealous  Wife,  came  out  in  January,  1761.  The  v-baractei'S  of 
Major  and  Mrs.  Oakley  were  performed  by  Garrick  and  Mrs  Pritchard,  and  Mrs.  Clive  Was  th« 
(<ady  Freelove 


296  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^*'' 

in  Derbyshire,  in  a  etraiu  of  very  courtly  elegance,  a  Dedication  to 
the  King,*  of  that  gentleman's  work,  entitled  "A  complete  Sys- 
tem of  Astronomical  Chronology,  unfolding  the  Scriptures."  He 
Lad  certainly  looked  at  this  work  before  it  was  printed  ;  for  the 
concluding  paragraph  is  undoubtedly  of  his  composition,  of  which 
^et  my  readers  judge  : — 

"  Thus  have  I  endeavoured  to  free  religion  and  history  from  the  darkness  of 
a  disputed  and  uncertain  chronology  ;  from  difficulties  which  have  hitherto 
appeared  insuperable,  and  darkness  which  no  luminary  or  learning  has  hitherto 
been  able  to  dissipate.  I  have  established  the  truth  of  the  Mosaical  account, 
by  evidence  which  no  transcription  can  corrupt,  no  negligence  can  lose,  and 
no  interest  can  pervert.  I  have  shewn  that  the  universe  bears  witness  to  the 
inspiration  of  its  historian,  by  the  revolution  of  its  orbs  and  the  succession  of 
its  seasons;  that  the  stars  in  their  cowrses  j?^/(<  a^/a^?^s<  incredulity,  that  the 
works  of  God  give  hourly  confirmation  to  the  law,  the  prophets,  and  the  gos- 
pel, of  which  one  day  telleth  another,  and  one  night  certifieth  another ;  an^ 
that  the  validity  of  the  sacred  writings  never  can  be  denied,  while  the  mooQ 
shall  increase  and  wane,  and  the  sun  shall  know  his  going  down." 

He  this  year  wrote  also  the  Dedicationf  to  the  Earl  of  Middle- 
sex, of  Mrs.  Lennox's  "  Female  Quixote,"  and  the  Preface  to  the 
"  Catalogue  of  the  Artists'  Exhibitiou."f 

The  following  letter,  which,  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  merit,  it 
would  have  been  unjust  both  to  Johnson  and  the  public  to  have 
withheld,  was  obtained  for  me  by  the  solicitation  of  my  friend  Mr. 
Seward  : — 

Letter  78.  TO  DR.  (NOW  SIR  GEORGE)  STAUNTON.* 

"  June  1, 1762. 

*'  Dear  Sir, — I  make  haste  to  answer  your  kind  letter,  in  hope  of  hearing 
again  from  you  before  you  leave  us.  I  cannot  but  regret  that  a  man  of  your 
qualifications  should  find  it  necessary  to  seek  an  establishment  in  Guadaloupe, 
which  if  a  peace  should  restore  to  the  French,  I  shall  think  it  some  alleviation 
of  the  loss,  that  it  must  restore  likewise  Dr.  Staunton  to  the  English. 

"  It  is  a  melancholy  consideration,  that  so  much  of  our  time  is  necessarily  to 
be  spent  upon  the  care  of  living,  and  that  we  can  seldom  obtain  ease  in  one 

>  George  Leonard  Staunton  was  born  in  Qalway,  in  Ireland,  in  1737,  and  having  adopted 
the  profession  of  medicine,  which  he  studied  in  France,  he  came  to  London  in  1760,  where  ha 
«rrote  for  the  periodical  publications  of  the  day,  and  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Dr, 
Johnson. 


A^TAT.  '.i.  LETTER    TO    A    t.VDV.  297 

respect  but  hy  resigning  it  in  another  ;  yet  I  suppose  vre  arc  by  this  dispensa- 
tion not  less  happy  m  the  whole,  than  if  the  spontaneous  bounty  of  Nature 
poured  all  that  we  want  into  our  hands.  A  few,  if  they  were  left  thus  to  them- 
selves, would,  perhaps,  spend  their  time  in  laudable  pursuits  ;  but  the  greater 
part  would  prey  upon  the  quiet  of  each  other,  or,  in  the  want  of  other  objects, 
would  prey  upon  themselves. 

"  This,  however,  is  our  condition,  which  we  must  improve  and  solace  as  we 
can  :  and  though  we  cannot  choose  always  oin-  place  of  residence,  Ave  may  in 
every  place  find  rational  amusements,  and  possess  in  every  place  the  comforts 
of  piety  and  a  pure  conscience. 

"In  America  there  is  little  to  be  observed  except  natural  curiosities.  The 
new  world  must  have  many  vegetables  and  animals  with  which  philosopher? 
are  but  little  acquainted.  I  hope  you  will  furnish  yourself  with  some  boolvs  ot 
natural  history,  and  some  glasses  and  other  instruments  of  observation.  Trust 
as  little  as  you  can  to  report ;  examine  all  you  can  by  your  own  senses.  I  do 
not  doubt  but  you  will  be  able  to  add  much  to  knowledge,  and,  perhaps,  to 
medicine.  Wild  nations  trust  to  simples,  and,  perhaps,  the  Peruvian  bark  is 
not  the  only  specific  which  those  extensive  regions  may  afford  us. 

"  Wherever  you  are,  and  whatever  be  your  fortune,  be  certain,  dear  Sir, 
that  you  carry  with  you  my  kind  wishes ;  and  that  whether  you  return  hither, 
or  stay  in  the  other  hemisphere,  to  hear  thart  you  are  happy  will  give  pleasure 
to,  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  JonxsoN." 

A  lady  having  at  this  time  solicited  him  to  obtain  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury's  patronage  to  have  lier  son  sent  to  the  University — • 
one  of  those  solicitations  which  are  too  frequent,  where  people, 
anxious  for  a  particular  object,  do  not  consider  propriety,  or  the 
opportunity  which  the  persons  whom  they  solicit  have  to  assist  them 
— he  wrote  to  her  the  following  answer,  with  a  copy  of  which  I  am 
favoured  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Farmer,  Master  of  Emanuel  College,  Cam- 
bridge. 

Letter  79.  TO.  MRS.  . 

"  June  8, 1762. 
"  Madam, — I  hope  you  will  believe  that  my  delay  in  answering  your  letter 
co'i^d  proceed  only  from  my  unwillingness  to  destroy  any  hope  that  you  had 
foi.ned.  Hope  is  itself  a  species  of  happiness,  and,  perhaps,  tlie  chief  happi- 
ness which  this  world  affords  :  but,  like  all  other  pleasures  immoderately 
enjoyed,  the  excesses  of  hope  must  be  expiated  by  pain  ;  and  expectations  im- 
properly indulged,  must  end  in  disappointment.  If  it  be  asked,  what  is  the 
improper  expectation  which  it  is  dangerous  to  indulge,  experience  will  quickly 
unswer,  that  it  is  such  expectation  as  is  dictated,  not  by  reason,  but  by  desire; 

13* 


258  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^''^^■ 

expectation  raised,  not  by  the  conj/non  occurrences  of  life,  but  by  the  wants 
of  the  expectant ;  an  expectation  that  requires  the  common  course  of  things  to 
be  changed,  and  the  general  rules  of  action  to  be  broken. 

"  When  you  made  your  request  to  me,  you  should  have  considered.  Madam, 
what  you  were  asking.  You  ask  me  to  solicit  a  great  man,  to  whom  I  never 
spoke,  for  a  young  person  whom  I  had  never  seen,  upon  a  supposition  which  I 
bad  no  means  of  knowing  to  be  true.  There  is  no  reason  why,  amongst  all 
the  great,  I  should  choose  to  supplicate  the  Archbishop,  nor  why,  among  all 
the  possible  objects  of  his  bounty,  the  Archbishop  should  choose  your  son.  I 
know,  madam,  how  unwillingly  conviction  is  admitted,  when  interest  opposes 
H  ;  but  surely,  madam,  you  must  allow,  that  there  is  no  reason  why  that  should 
be  done  by  me,  which  every  other  man  may  do  with  equal  reason,  and  which, 
indeed,  no  man  can  do  properly,  without  some  very  particular  relation  both  to 
the  Archbishop  and  to  you.  If  I  could  help  you  in  this  exigence  by  any  proper 
means,  it  would  give  me  pleasure ;  but  this  proposal  is  so  very  remote  from 
UBual  methods,  that  I  cannot  comply  with  it  but  at  the  risk  of  such  answer  and 
S'lspicions  as  I  believe  you  do  not  wish  me  to  undergo. 

"  I  have  seen  your  son  this  morning ;  he  seems  a  pretty  youth,  and  will,  per- 
haps, find  some  better  friend  than  I  can  procure  him  ;  but  though  he  should  at 
last  miss  the  university,  he  may  still  be  wise,  useful,  and  happy.  I  am,  Madam, 
your  most  humble  servanv, 

"Sam.  Johnson-" 

Letter  80.  TO  MR.  JOSEPH  BARETTI, 

At  Milan. 

"  London,  July  20, 1762. 

"Sir, — However  justly  you  may  accuse  me  for  want  of  punctuality  in  cor- 
respondence, I  am  not  so  far  lost  in  negligence  as  to  omit  the  opportunity 
of  writing  to  you,  which  Mr.  Beauclerk's  passage  through  Milan  affords  me. 

"  I  suppose  you  received  the  Idlers,  and  I  intend  that  you  shall  soon  receive 
Shakspeare,  that  you  may  explain  his  works  to  the  ladies  of  Italy,  and  tell 
them  the  story  of  the  editor,  among  the  other  strange  narratives  with  whica 
your  long  residence  in  this  unknown  region  has  supplied  you. 

"  As  you  have  now  been  long  away,  I  suppose  your  curiosity  may  pant  for 
some  news  of  your  old  friends.  Miss  Williams  and  I  live  much  as  we  did. 
Miss  Cotterel  still  continues  to  cling  to  Mrs.  Porter,  and  Charlotte  is  now  big 
of  the  fourth  child.  Mr.  Reynolds  gets  six  thousands  a  year.  Levet  is  lately 
married,  not  without  much  suspicion  that  he  has  been  wretchedly  cheated  iu 
his  match.*     Mr.  Chambers  is  gone  this  day,  for  the  first  time,  the  circuit  with 

'  "  Levet  married,  when  he  was  near  sixty,  a  woman  of  the  town,  who  had  persuaded  him 
(notwithstanding  their  place  of  congress  was  a  small  coal-shed  in  Fetter  Lane)  that  she  was 
nearly  related  to  a  man  of  fortune,  but  was  kept  by  him  out  of  large  possessions.  Johnson 
ased  to  say  that,  compared  with  the  marvels  of  tliis  transaction,  the  Arabian  Nights  seemea 
familiar  occurrences.    Never  was  hero  more  completely  duped.   He  had  not  been  married  fom 


^■^'^■^■^-  LETTER   TO    BARETTI.  299 

the  Judges.  Mr.  Richardson,  is  dead  of  an  apoplexy,  and  his  second  daugh 
ter  has  married  a  merchant. 

"  My  vanity,  or  my  kindness,  makes  me  flatter  myself,  that  you  would  rather 
hoar  of  me  than  of  those  whom  I  have  mentioned  ;  but  of  myself  I  have  very 
little  which  I  care  to  tell.  Last  winter  I  went  down  to  my  native  town, 
where  I  found  the  streets  much  narrower  and  shorter  than  I  thought  I  had 
left  them,  inliabited  by  a  new  race  of  people,  to  whom  I  was  very  little  known. 
My  play-fellows  were  grown  old,  and  forced  me  to  suspect  that  I  was  no  longer 
young.  My  only  remaining  friend  has  changed  his  principles,  and  was  become 
the  tool  of  the  predominant  faction.  My  daugliter-in-law,  from  whom  I  e> 
pected  most,  and  whom  I  met  with  sincere  benevolence,  has  lost  the  beaut} 
and  gaiety  of  youth,  without  having  gained  much  of  the  wisdom  of  age.  I 
wandered  about  for  five  days,  and  took  tlie  first  convenient  opportunity  oi 
returning  to  a  place,  where,  if  there  is  not  much  happiness,  there  is,  at  least, 
tiuch  a  diversity  of  good  and  evil,  that  slight  vexations  do  not  fix  upon  the 
heart. 

"I  think  in  a  few  weeks  to  try  another  excursion;  though  to  what  end? 
Let  me  know,  my  Baretti,  what  has  been  the  result  of  your  return  to  your 
own  country :  whether  time  has  made  any  alteration  for  the  better,  and  whe- 
ther, when  the  first  raptures  of  salutation  were  over,  you  did  not  find  your 
thoughts  confessed  their  disappointment. 

"  Moral  sentences  appear  ostentatious  and  tumid,  wlien  they  have  no  greater 
occasions  than  the  journey  of  a  wit  to  his  own  town :  yet  such  pleasures  and 
such  pains  make  up  the  general  mass  of  life  ;  and  as  nothing  is  little  to  him 
that  feels  it  with  great  sensibility,  a  mind  able  to  see  common  incidents  in 
their  real  state,  is  dispo.sed  by  very  common  incidents  to  very  serious  contem- 
plations. Let  us  trust  that  a  time  will  come,  when  the  present  moment  shall 
be  no  longer  irksome  ;  when  we  shall  not  borrow  all  our  happiness  from  hope, 
w^iich  at  last  is  to  end  in  disappointment. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  show  Mr.  Beauclerk  all  the  civilities  which  you  have  in 
your  power ;  for  he  has  always  been  kind  to  me. 

"  I  have  lately  seen  Mr.  Stratico,  Professor  of  Padua,  who  has  told  me  of 
your  quarrel  witji  an  Abbot  of  the  Celestine  order;  but  had  not  the  particulars 
very  ready  in  his  memory.  When  you  write  to  Mr.  Marsili,  let  him  know  that 
I  remember  him  with  kindness. 

''  May  you,  my  Baretti,  be  very  happy  at  Milan,  or  some  other  place  neare- 
tc^  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson. 

months  before  a  writ  was  taken  out  against  him  for  debts  contracted  by  his  wife.  He  wai 
secreted,  and  his  friend  then  procured  him  a  protection  from  a  foreign  minister.  In  a  short 
time  after\vi«-ds,  she  ran  away  from  him,  and  was  tried  for  piclcing  pocliets  at  the  Old  Bailey 

Slie  pleaded  her  own  cause,  and  was  aoiiuitted      n,  sep.-vratiou  took  place  ;    and  Johnson  took 

Levet  home,  where  he  continued  till  his  death."— SrEi!VENs. 
1.  Samuel  Richardson,  the  autlior  o'  Clarii^sa,  iS:e.,  died  July  i,  17iU,  aged  7a.— M. 


300  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  *'^ 

The  accession  of  George  the  Thu'd  to  the  throne  of  these  king- 
doms, opened  a  new  and  brighter  prospect  to  men  of  litevarj 
merit,  who  had  been  honoured  with  no  mark  of  royal  favour  in  the 
preceding  reign.  His  present  ivlajesty's  education  in  this  country, 
as  well  as  his  taste  and  beneficence,  prompted  him  to  be  the  patron 
of  science  and  the  arts  ;  and  early  this  year  Johnson  having 
been  represented  to  him  as  a  very  learned  and  good  man,  without 
any  certain  provision,  his  Majesty  was  pleased  to  grant  him  a  pen- 
sion of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year.  The  Earl  of  Bute,  who  was 
then  Prime  Minister,  had  the  honour  to  announce  this  instance  of 
his  Sovereign's  bounty,  concerning  which,  many  and  various  stories, 
all  equally  erroneous,  have  been  propagated  ;  maliciously  represent' 
ing  it  as  a  political  bribe  to  Johnson,  to  desert  his  avowed  princi- 
ples, and  become  the  tool  of  a  government  which  he  held  to  be 
founded  in  usurpation.  I  have  taken  care  to  have  it  in  my  power 
to  refute  them  from  the  most  authentic  information.  Lord  Bute  told 
me,  that  Mr.  Wedderburne,  now  Lord  Loughborough,  was  the  per- 
son who  first  mentioned  this  subject  to  him.  Lord  Loughborough 
told  me,  that  the  pension  was  granted  to  Johnson  solely  as  the 
reward  of  his  literary  merit,  without  any  stipulation  whatever,  or  even 
tacit  understanding  that  he  should  write  for  administration.  His 
Lordship  added,  that  he  was  confident  the  political  tracts  which 
Johnson  afterwards  did  write,  as  they  were  entirely  consonant  with 
his  own  opinions,  would  have  been  written  by  him,  though  no  pen 
sion  had  been  granted  to  him. 

Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  and  Mr.  Murphy,  who  then  lived  a  good 
deal  both  with  him  and  Mr.  Wedderburne,  told  me,  that  they 
previously  talked  with  Johnson  upon  this  matter,  a*id  that  it  was 
perfectly  understood  by  all  parties  that  the  pension  was  merely 
honorary.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  told  me,  that  Johnson  called  on 
him  after  his  Majesty's  intention  had  been  notified  to  him,  and  said 
he  wished  to  consult  his  friends  as  to  the  propriety  of  accepting  this 
mark  of  the  royal  favour,  after  the  definitions  which  he  had  given  in 
his  Dictionary  o?  pension  and  pensioners.  He  said  he  should  not  have 
Sir  Joshua's  answer  till  next  day,  when  he  would  call  agam,  and 
desired  he  might  think  of  it.  Sir  Joshua  answered  that  he  was  clear 
to  give  his  opinion  then,  that  there  could  be  no  objection  to  hia 


^^r.SS.  HI3    PENSIOlJ.  §01 

receiving  from  the  King  a  reward  for  literary  merit  ;  and  that  cer. 
tainly  the  definitions  in  his  Dictionary  M'ere  not  applicable  to  hira. 
Johnson,  it  shonld  seem,  was  satisfied,  for  he  did  not  call  again  till 
he  had  accepted  the  pension,  and  had  waited  on  Lord  Bute  to  thank 
him.  He  then  told  Sir  Joshua  that  Lord  Bute  said  to  him  expressly, 
"  It  is  not  given  you  for  anything  you  are  to  do,  but  for  what  you 
have  done."  *  His  Lordship,  he  said,  behaved  in  the  haudsouiest 
nanner.  He  repeated  the  words  twice,  that  he  might  be  sure 
Johnson  heard  them,  and  thus  set  his  mind  perfectly  at  ease.  This 
nobleman,  who  has  been  so  virulently  abused,  acted  with  great 
honour  in  this  instance,  and  displayed  a  mind  truly  liberal.  A 
minister  of  a  more  narrow  and  selfish  disposition  would  have 
availed  himself  of  such  an  opportunity  to  fix  an  implied  obligation  on 
a  man  of  Johnson's  powerful  talents  to  give  him  his  support." 

Mr,  Murphy '  and  the  late  Mr.  Sheridan  severally  contended  for 
the  distinction  of  having  been  the  first  who  mentioned  to  Mr. 
AVedderburne  that  Johnson  ought  to  have  a  pension.  When  1 
spoke  of  this  to  Lord  Loughborough,  wishing  to  know  if  he  recol- 
lected the  prime  mover  in  the  business,  he  said,  "  All  his  friends 
assisted  :"  and  when  I  told  him  that  Mr.  Sheridau  strenuously 
asserted  his  claim  to  it,  his  Lordship  said,  "  He  rang  the  bell."   And 

>  This  was  said  by  Lord  Bute,  as  l)r.  Burney  was  informed  by  Johnson  himself,  in  answer 
to  a  question  which  he  put,  previously  to  his  acceptance  of  the  intended  bounty  :  "  Pray,  my 
lord,  what  am'I  expected  to  do  for  this  pension  ?"^ — M. 

^  Such  favours  are  never  conferred  under  express  conditions  of  future  servility- — tlie 
phrases  used  on  this  occasion  have  been  employed  in  all  similar  cases,  and  they  are  heie 
insisted  on  by  Mr.  Boswell,  in  order  to  reconcile  Johnson's  conduct  on  this  occasion,  with  his 
definitions  of  pension  vlx\(\  pensioner.- — C. 

'  This  is  not  correct.  Mr.  Murphy  did  not  "contest  tJiis  distinction  "  with  ^[r.  Sheridau. 
He  claimeiij  we  see,  not  the  first  suggestion  to  Lord  Lougliborough,  but  the  first  notice  from 
his  lordship  to  Johnson.  Mr.  Murphy's  words  are : — "  Lord  Loughborough,  who,  perliaps, 
was  originally  a  mover  in  the  business,  had  authority  to  mention  it.  He  was  well  acquainted 
with  Johnson  ;  but  having  heard  much  of  his  independent  spirit,  and  of  the  downfall  of 
Osborne,  the  bookseller,  he  did  not  know  but  his  benevolence  might  be  rewarded  with  a  folio 
on  his  head  He  desired  the  author  of  these  memoirs  to  undertake  the  task.  This  writer 
thought  the  opportunity  of  doing  so  much  good,  the  most  happy  incident  in  his  life.  He  went, 
without  delay,  to  the  chambers  in  the  Inner  Temple  Lane,  which,  in  fact,  were  the  abode  of 
wretchedness.  By  slow  and  studied  approaches  the  message  was  disclosed.  Johnson  made  a 
long  pause  ;  he  asked  if  it  was  seriously  intended?  He  fell  into  a  profound  meditation,  and 
his  own  definition  of  a  pensioner  occurred  to  hira.  He  was  told, '  that  he,  at  least,  did  not 
eome  within  the  definition.'  He  desired  to  meet  next  day,  and  dine  at  the  Mitre  Tavern.  At 
that  meeting  he  gave  up  all  hie  scruples.  On  the  following  day,  Lo'd  Loughborougt-  f  di> 
ducted  him  to  the  Earl  of  Bute." 


§0^  LIFE    OP    JOHNSON.  '^^^ 

it  is  but  just  to  add,  that  Mr.  Sheridan  told  me,  that  when  he  com- 
municated to  Dr.  Johnson  that  a  pension  was  to  be  granted  him,  he 
replied  in  a  fervour  of  gratitude,  "  The  English  language  does  not 
afford  me  terms  adequate  to  my  feelings  on  this  occasion.  I  must 
have  recourse  to  the  French.  I  am  penetre  with  his  Majesty's 
goodness.  When  I  repeated  this  to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  did  not  contra- 
dict it. 

His  definitions  of  pension  and  pensioner,  partly  founded  on  the 
satirical  verses  of  Pope,"  which  he  quotes,  may  be  generally  true;  and 
yet  everybody  must  allow,  that  there  may  be,  and  have  been,  in 
stances  of  pensions  given  and  received  upon  liberal  and  honourable 
terms.  Thus,  then,  it  is  clear,  that  there  was  nothing  inconsistent 
or  humiliating  in  Johnson's  accepting  of  a  pension  so  unconditionally 
md  so  honourably  offered  to  him. 

But  I  shall  not  detain  my  readers  longer  by  any  words  of  my 
)wn,  on  a  subject  on  which  I  am  happily  enabled,  by  the  favour  of 
the  Earl  of  Bute,  to  present  them  with  what  Johnson  himself  wrote  ; 
his  Lordship  having  been  pleased  to  communicate  to  mc  a  copy  of 
the  following  letter  to  his  late  father,  which  does  great  honour  both 
to  the  writer,  and  to  the  noble  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed  : — 

Letter  81.         TO  THE  RIGHT  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  BUTE. 

"  July  20, 1763. 

"  My  Lord, — When  the  bills  were  }'estcrday  delivered  to  nie  by  Mr.  Wed- 
derburne,  I  was  informed  by  him  of  the  future  favours  which  his  Majesty  has, 
by  your  Lordship's  recommendation,  been  induced  to  intend  for  me. 

"  Bounty  always  receives  part  of  ilB  value  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
bestowed  :  your  Lordship's  kindness  includes  every  circumstance  that  can 
gratify  delicacy,  or  enforce  obligation.  You  have  conferred  your  favours  on  a 
man  who  has  neither  alliance  nor  interest,  who  has  not  merited  them  by  ser- 
vices, nor  courted  them  by  ofBciousness  ;  you  have  spared  him  the  shame  of 
solicitation,  and  the  anxiety  of  suspense. 

"  What  has  been  thus  elegantly  given,  will,  I  hope,  not  be  reproachfully 
enjoyed  ;  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  your  Lordship  the  only  recompense  which 
generosity  desires — the  gratification  of  finding  that  your  benefits  are  not 
improperly  bestowed.  I  am,  my  Lord,  your  Lordship's  most  obliged,  most 
obedient,  and  most  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson."  * 

-    "  The  hero  William,  and  the  martyr  Charles, 

One  knighted  Blackmore,  and  one  pension' d  Quarles." 
'  The  addition  of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year,  to  vUat  Johnson  was  able  to  earn  by  tb« 


^'^^''-  ^-  VISIT   TO    DEVONSHIRE.  303 

This  year  his  frieud,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  paid  a  visit  of  some 
weeks  to  his  native  country,  Devonshire,  in  which  he  was  accom- 
panied by  Johnson,  who  was  much  pleased  with  this  jaunt,  and 
declared  he  had  derived  from  it  a  great  accession  of  new  ideas. 
He  was  entertained  at  the  seats  of  several  noblemen  and  gentlemen 
in  the  west  of  England  ; '  but  the  greatest  part  of  this  time  was 
passed  at  Plymouth,  where  the  magnificence  of  the  navy,  the  ship- 
building and  all  its  circumstances,  afforded  him  a  grand  subject  of 
contemplation.  The  Commissioner  of  the  Dock-yard  [Captain  Fran- 
cis Rogers]  paid  him  the  compliment  of  ordering  the  yacht  to  con- 
vey him  and  his  friend  to  the  Eddystone,  to  which  they  accordingly 
sailed.  But  the  weather  was  so  tempestuous  that  they  could  not 
land. 

Reynolds  and  he  were  at  this  time  the  guests  of  Dr.  Mudge,  the 
celebrated  surgeon,  and  now  physician  of  that  place,  not  more  dis- 
tinguished for  quickness  of  parts  and  variety  of  knowledge,  than 
loved  and  esteemed  for  his  amiable  manners  ;'  and  here  Johnson 

>rdinary  exercise  of  his  talents,  raised  him  to  a  state  of  comparative  affluence,  and  afforded 
iim  the  means  of  assisting  many  whose  real  or  pretended  wants  had  formerly  excited  his  com- 
passion. He  now  practised  a  rule  which  he  often  recommended  to  his  friends,  always  to  go 
Abroad  with  some  loose  money  to  give  to  beggars,  imitating  therein,  though  certainly  without 
intending  it,  that  good  but  weak  man,  old  Mr.  Whiston,  whom  I  have  seen  distributing,  in  the 
streets,  money  to  beggars  on  each  hand  of  him,  till  his  pocket  was  nearly  exhausted. — Haw- 
kins. He  loved  the  poor  as  I  never  yet  saw  any  one  else  do,  with  an  earnest  desire  to  make 
them  happy.  What  signifies,  says  some  one,  giving  halfpence  to  common  beggars  ?  they  only  lay 
it  out  in  gin  or  tobacco.  "  And  why  (says  Johnson)  should  they  be  denied  such  sweeteners  of  their 
existence?  it  is  surely  very  savage  to  refuse  them  every  possible  avenue  to  pleasure,  reckoned 
too  coarse  for  our  own  acceptance.  Life  is  a  pill  which  none  of  us  can  bear  to  swallow  with- 
out gilding ;  yet  for  the  poor  we  delight  in  stripping  it  still  barer,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  show 
even  visible  displeasure,  if  ever  the  bitter  taste  is  taken  from  their  mouths."  In  pursuance 
of  these  principles  he  nursed  whole  nests  of  people  in  his  house,  where  the  lame,  the  blind,  the 
sick,  and  the  sorrowful  found  a  sure  retreat  from  all  the  evils  whence  his  little  income  could 
secure  them. — Piozzi.  When  visiting  Lichfield,  towa-ds  the  latter  paVt  of  his  life,  he  was 
accustomed,  on  his  arrival,  to  deposit  with  Miss  Porter  as  much  cash  as  would  pay  his 
expenses  back  to  London.  He  could  not  trust  himself  with  his  own  money,  as  he  felt  him- 
self unable  to  resist  the  importunity  of  the  numerous  claimants  on  his  benevolence. — 
Harwood. 

-  At  one  of  these  seats,  Dr.  Amyat,  physician  in  London,  told  me  he  happened  to  meet  him. 
In  order  to  amuse  him  till  dinner  should  be  ready,  he  was  taken  out  to  walk  in  the  garden. 
The  master  of  the  house,  thinking  it  proper  to  introduce  something  scientific  into  the  conver- 
Ration,  addressed  him  thus  :  "  Are  you  a  botanist,  Dr.  Johnson  ?" — "  No,  Sir  (answered  John- 
ion),  I  am  not  a  botanist;  and,  (alluding,  no  doubt,  to  his  near-sightedness,)  should  I  wish  to 
become  a  botanist,  I  must  first  turn  myself  into  a  reptile." 

■^  Dr.  John  Mudge  died  in  1791.  He  was  the  father  of  Colonel  William  Mudge,  distin- 
guisbed  oy  ais  crieonometrical  survey  of  England  and  Wales,  carried  on  by  order  of  the  Ord- 
tanct. 


.30l  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


ITO 


foimed  an  acquaiutance  with  Dr.  Mudge's  father/  that  very  emi- 
nent divine,  the  Rev.  Zachariah  Mudge,  Prebendary  of  Exeter,  who 
was  idolised  in  the  west,  both  for  his  excellence  as  a  preacher  and 
the  uniform  perfect  propriety  of  his  private  conduct.  He  preached 
a  sermon  purposely  that  Johnson  might  hear  him  ;  and  we  shall'  see 
afterwards  that  Johnson  honoured  his  memory  by  drawing  his 
character."  While  Johnson  was  at  Plymouth,  he  saw  a  great  many 
of  its  inhabitants,  and  was  not  sparing  of  his  very  entertaining  con- 
versation. It  was  here  that  he  made  that  frank  and  truly  original 
confession,  that  "  ignorance,  pure  ignorance,"  was  the  cause  of  a 
wrong  clefiuition  in  his  Dictionary  of  the  word  pastern,  to  the  no 
small  surprise  of  the  lady  who  put  the  question  to  him  ;  who,  having 
the  most  profound  reverence  for  his  character,  so  as  almost  to  sup- 
pose him  endowed  with  infallibility,  expected  to  hear  an  explana- 
tion (of  what,  to  be  sure,  seemed  strange  to  a  common  reader), 
drawn  from  some  deep-learned  source  with  which  she  was  unac- 
quainted. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  to  whom  I  was  obliged  for  my  information 
concerning  this  excursion,  mentions  a  very  characteristical  anec- 
dote of  Johnson  while  at  Plymouth.  Having  observed,  that  in  con- 
sequence of  the  Dock-yard  a  new  town  had  arisen  about  two  miles 
off  as  a  rival  to  the  old  ;  and  knowing  from  his  sagacity,  and  just 
observation  of  human  nature,  that  it  is  certain,  if  a  man  hates  at  all, 
he  will  hate  his  next  neighbour  :  he  concluded  that  this  new  and 
rising  town  could  not  but  excite  the  envy  and  jealousy  of  the  old, 
in  \Thich  conjecture  he  was  very  soon  confirmed  ;  he,  therefore,  set 
himself  resolutely  on  the  side  of  the  old  town,  the  established  town,  in 
which  his  lot  was  cast,  considering  it  as  a  kind  of  duty  to  stand  by 
it.  He  accordingly  entered  warmly  into  its  interests,  and  upou 
every  occasion  talked  of  the  Dockers,  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  new 
town  were  called,  as  upstarts  and  aliens.  Plymouth  is  very  plenti- 
fully supplied  with  water  by  a  river  brought  into  it  from  a  great 

*  Thomas  Mudge,  the  celebrated  watch-maker  in  Fleet  Street,  who  made  considerable 
Improvements  in  time-keepers,  and  wrote  several  pamphlets  on  that  subject,  was  another  sou 
of  Mr.  Zachariah  Mudge.— Hall.     [He  died  in  1791. 

-  ^ee  poii,  March,  ITSl.  "  I  have  heard  Sir  Joshua  declare,  that  Mr.  Z.  Mudge  was,  in  his 
opinion,  the  wisest  man  he  ever  met  with,  and  that  he  had  intended  to  have  republisbedJiU 
Fermonri,  and  written  a  sketch  of  his  life  and  character."  — Nobthcotb. 


^'^^'^•^-  PLYMOUTH THE  DOCKERS.  305 

distance,  wbicli  is  so  abundaut  that  it  runs  to  waste  in  tlie  town 
The  Dock,  or  New-town,  being  totally  destitute  of  water,  petitioned 
Plymouth  that  a  small  portion  of  the  conduit  might  be  permitted  to 
go  to  them,  and  this  was  now  under  consideration.  Johnson,  aifect- 
ing  to  entertain  the  passions  of  the  place,  was  violent  in  opposition  ; 
and  half-laughing  at  himself  for  his  pretended  zeal,  where  he  had  no 
concern,  exclaimed,  "  No,  no  !  I  am  against  the  Doders ;  I  am  a 
Plymouth-man.  Eogues  !  let  them  die  of  thirst.  They  shall  not 
have  a  drop  !" 

Lord  Macartney  obligingly  favoured  me  with  a  copy  of  the  fol- 
lowing letter,  in  his  own  hand-writing,  from  the  original,  which 
was  found  by  the  present  Earl  of  ]>ute,  among  his  father's  papers. 

Letter  82.  TO  THE  RIGHT  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  BUTE. 

"  Temple  Lane,  Nov.  3,  X762. 

"  My  Lord, — That  generosity,  by  which  1  was  recommended  to  the  favour 
of  his  Majesty,  will  not  be  offended  at  a  solicitation  necessary  to  make  that 
favour  permanent  and  effectual. 

"  The  pension  appointed  to  be  paid  nie  at  Michaelmas  I  have  not  received, 
ind  know  not  where  or  from  whom  I  am  to  ask  it.  I  beg,  therefore,  that 
your  Lordship  will  be  pleased  to  supply  Mr.  Wedderburne  with  such  directions 
as  may  be  necessary,  which,  I  believe,  his  friendsliip  will  make  him  think  it  no 
trouble  to  convey  to  me. 

"  To  interrupt  your  Lordship,  at  a  time  like  this,  with  such  petty  difficulties, 
is  improper  and  unseasonable  ;  but  your  knowledge  of  the  world  has  long 
fimce  taught  you,  that  every  man's  affairs,  however  little,  are  important  to  him- 
self. Every  man  hopes  that  he  shall  escape  neglect;  and,  with  reason,  may 
every  man,  whose  vices  do  not  preclude  his  claim,  expect  favour  from  that 
beneficence  which  has  been  extended  to,  my  Lord,  your  Lordship's  most 
obliged,  and  most  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  83.  TO  MR.  JOSEPH  BARETTI, 

Ac  Milan, 

"  London,  Dec.  21,  1T62. 
--  "  Sir, — You  are  not  to  suppose,  with  all  your  conviction  of  my  idleness, 
.hat  I  have  passed  all  this  time  without  writing  to  my  Baretti.  I  gave  a  let- 
ter to  Mr.  Beauclerk,  who,  in  my  opinion,  and  in  his  own,  was  hastening  to 
Naples  for  the  recovery  of  his  health ;  but  he  has  stopped  at  Paris,  and  . 
know  not  when  he  will  proceed.     Langton  is  with  him. 


305  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^'^ 

"  I  will  not  troubla  jou  with  speculations  about  peace  and  war.  The  good 
or  ill  success  of  battles  and  embassies  extends  itself  to  a  very  small  part  o' 
domestic  life  :  we  all  have  good  and  evil,  which  we  feel  more  sensibly  than 
our  petty  part  of  public  miscarriage  or  prosperity.  I  am  sorry  for  your  disap- 
pointment, with  which  you  seem  more  touched  than  I  should  expect  a  man  of 
your  resolution  and  experience  to  have  been,  did  I  not  know  that  general 
truths  arc  seldom  applied  to  particular  occasions ;  and  that  the  fallacy  of  our 
self-love  extends  itself  as  wide  as  our  interest  or  affections.  Every  man 
believes  that  mistresses  are  unfaithful,  and  patrons  capricious  ;  but  he  excepts 
his  own  mistress,  and  his  own  patron.  We  have  all  learned  that  greatness  is 
negligent  and  contemptuous,  and  that  in  courts  life  is  often  languished  away 
in  ungratified  expectation  ;  but  he  that  approaches  greatness,  or  glitters  in  a 
court,  imagines  that  destiny  has  at  last  exempted  him  from  the  common  lot. 

"Do  not  let  such  evils  overwhelm  you  as  thousands  have  suffered,  and  thou- 
sands have  surmounted ;  but  turn  your  thoughts  with  vigour  to  some  other 
plan  of  life,  and  keep  always  in  your  mind,  that,  with  due  submission  to  Pro- 
vidence, a  man  of  genius  has  been  seldom  ruined  but  by  himself.  Your 
patron's  weakness  or  insensibility  will  finally  do  you  little  hurt,  if  he  is  not 
assisted  by  your  own  passions.  Of  your  love  I  know  not  the  propriety,  nor 
can  estimate  the  power ;  but  in  love,  as  in  every  other  passion  of  which  hope 
is  the  essence,  we  ought  always  to  remember  the  uncertainty  of  events.  There 
is,  indeed,  nothing  that  so  much  seduces  reason  from  vigilance,  as  the  thought 
of  passing  life  with  an  amiable  woman ;  and  if  all  would  happen  that  a  lover 
fancies,  I  know  not  what  other  terrestrial  happiness  would  deserve  pursuit. 
But  love  and  marriage  are  different  states.  Those  who  are  to  suffer  the  evils 
together,  and  to  suffer  often  for  the  sake  of  one  another,  soon  lose  that  ten- 
derness of  look,  and  that  benevolence  of  mind,  which  arose  from  the  partici- 
pation of  unmingled  pleasure  and  successive  amusement.  A  woman,  we  are 
sure,  will  not  be  always  fair ;  we  are  not  sure  she  will  always  be  virtuous  :  and 
man  cannot  retain  through  life  that  respect  and  assiduity  by  which  he  pleases 
for  a  day  or  for  a  month.  I  do  not,  however,  pretend  to  have  discovei-ed  that 
life  has  anything  more  to  be  desired  than  a  prudent  and  virtuous  marriage  ; 
therefore  know  not  what  counsel  to  give  you. 

"  If  you  can  quit  your  imagination  of  love  and  greatness,  and  leave  your 
hopes  of  preferment  and  bridal  raptures  to  try  once  more  the  fortune  of  lite- 
rature and  industry,  the  way  through  France  is  now  open.  We  flatter  our- 
selves that  w^e  shall  cultivate,  with-  great  diligence,  the  arts  of  peace ;  and 
every  man  will  be  welcome  among  us  who  can  teach  us  anything  we  do  not 
know.  For  your  part,  you  will  find  all  your  old  friends  willing  to  receive 
fou. 

"  Reynolds  still  continues  to  increase  in  reputation  .ind  in  riches.  Miss 
Williams,  who  very  much  loves  you,  goes  on  in  the  old  way.  Mi?s  Cotterel  is 
still  with  Mrs.  Porter.  Miss  Charlotte  is  married  to  Dean  Lewis,  and  has  three 
children.     Mr.    Levct  has  married  a  street-walker.     But  the  gazette   of  mv 


^'^^  ^  COtLlN^S  301 

narration  must  now   arrive   to  tell   you,  thai  Batliurst  wont  physician  to  the 
army,  and  died  at  the  Havanah. 

"I  know  not  whether  I  have  not  sent  you  word  that  Iluggins  '  and  Richard- 
son are  both  dead.  When  we  see  our  enemies  and  friends  gliding  away  before 
us,  let  us  not  forget  that  we  are  subject  to  the  general  law  of  mortality,  and 
shall  soon  be  where  our  doom  will  be  fixed  forever.  I  pray  God  to  bless  you, 
and  am,  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Jonx.sox. 

"  Write  soon." 

Lktter  81.  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER.  i 

In   Lichfield. 

"  April  12,  1T63. 
"  My  Dkar, — The  newspaper  has  informed  me  of  the  death  of  Captain  Tor- 
ter.  I  know  not  what  to  say  to  you,  coudoleut  or  consolatory,  beyond  the 
common  considerations  which  I  suppose  you  have  proposed  to  others,  and 
know  how  to  apply  to  yourself.  In  all  afflictions  the  first  relief  is  to  be  asked 
of  God. 

"  I  wish  to  be  informed  in  what  condition  your  brother's  death  has  left  your 
fortune ;  if  he  has  bequeathed  you  competence  or  plenty,  1  shall  sincerely 
rejoice ;  if  you  are  in  any  distress  or  difficulty,  I  will  endeavour  to  make  what 
I  have,  or  what  I  can  get,  sufficient  for  us  both.  I  am,  Madam,  yours  affec- 
tiouateiy, 

"  Sam.  Johnson," 

In  nC3,  he  furnished  to  "The  Poetical  Calendar,"  pu1)lished  by 
Fawkes  and  Woty,  a  character  of  Collins,*  which  he  afterwards  in- 
grafted into  his  entire  Life  of  that  admirable  poet,  in  the  collection 
of  Lives  which  he  wrote  for  the  body  of  English  poetry,  formed 
and  published  by  the  booksellers  of  London.  His  account  of  the 
tnelancholy  depression  with  which  Collins  was  severely  afflicted,  and 
which  brought  him  to  his  grave,  is,  I  think,  one  of  the  most  tender 
and  interesting  passages  in  the  whole  series  of  his  writings.  He 
also  favoured  Mr.  Hoole  with  the  Dedication  of  his  translation  of 

1  Huggins,  the  translator  of  Ariosto.  His  enmity  to  Baretti  and  Johnson  will  be  explained 
by  the  following  extract  from  a  MS.  letter  of  Dr.  Warton  to  his  brother,  dated  Wiiislade, 
April'2S,  1T55  :— 

"  He  (Huggins)  abuses  Baretti  infernally,  and  says  that  he  one  day  lent  Baretti  a  gold 
watch  and  cmild  never  get  it  afterwards  ;  that  after  many  excuses  Baretti  skulked,  and  then 
got  Joliviion  to  write  to  Mr.  Huggins  a  supiiliant  letter ;  that  this  letter  stopped  Huggins 
awhile,  while  Baretti  got  a. protection  from  tjie  Sardinian  ambassador;  and  that,  at  last,  with 
great  dilhculty,  the  watch  was  got  from  a  pawnbroker's,  to  whom  Baretti  had  sold  it.  What 
a  strange  story,  and  how  dillicult  to  be  believed  !  Iluggins  wanted  to  get  an  approbation  of 
hi-<  transhition  from  .Johnson:  but  Johnson  wouldnot,  though  Huggins  says  'twas  only  to  get 
money  from  him.  To  crown  all,  he  says  that  Baretti  wanted  to  poison  Crokur.  By  some 
(Deans  or  other,  John^^on  must  know  this  story  of  JIuggins." — C. 


308  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^'^^ 

Tasso  to  the  Queen,*  which  is  so  happily  conceived  and  elegantly 
expressed,  that  I  cannot  but  point  it  out  to  the  peculiar  notice  of 
my  readers 

TO  THE  QUEEN. 

"Madam, —  To  approach  the  high  and  illustrious  has  been  in  all  ages  the 
privilege  of  poets ;  and  though  translators  cannot  justly  claim  the  same 
honour,  yet  they  naturally  follow  their  authors  as  attendants ;  and  I  hope  that 
in  return  for  having  enabled  Tasso  to  diffuse  his  fame  through  the  British  do- 
minions, I  may  be  introduced  by  him  to  the  presence  of  your  Majesty. 

"  Tasso  has  a  peculiar  claim  to  your  Majesty's  favour,  as  follower  and 
panegyrist  of  the  house  of  Este,  which  has  one  common  ancestor  with  the 
house  of  Hanover;  and  in  reviewing  his  life,  it  is  not  easy  to  forbear  a  wish 
that  he  had  lived  in  a  happier  time,  when  he  might  among  the  descendants  of 
that  illustrious  family  have  found  a  more  liberal  and  potent  patronage. 

"I  cannot  but  observe.  Madam,  how  unequally  reward  is  proportioned  to 
merit,  when  I  reflect  that  the  happiness  which  was  withheld  from  Tiisso  is  re- 
served for  me ;  and  that  the  poem  which  once  hardly  procured  to  its  author 
the  countenance  of  the  princes  of  Ferrara,  has  attracted  to  its  translator  the 
favourable  notice  of  a  British  queen. 

"  Had  this  been  the  fate  of  Tasso,  he  would  have  been  able  to  have  cele- 
brated the  condescension  of  your  Majesty  in  nobler  language,  but  cotild  not 
have  felt  it  with  more  ardent  gratitude  than.  Madam,  your  Majesty's  iDoat 
faithful  and  devoted  servant." 


CHAPTER    XV. 

1^163. 

BoswaH  becomes  acquainted  with  Johnson— Derrick— Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan— Mrs.  Sheridan— 
At-.  Thomas  Davies— Mrs.  Davies— First  Interview— His  Dress— Johnson's  Chambers  In 
Temple  Lane— Dr.  Blair— Dr.  James  Fordyce—Ossian— Christopher  Smart— Thomas  John, 
son,  the  Equestrian— Clifton's  Eating  House— The  Mitre— CoUey  Gibber's  Odes— Gray— . 
Belief  in  the  Appearance  of  departed  Spirits— Churchill— Cock-Lane  Ghost— Goldsmith— 
Mallet's  "  Elvira  " — Scotch  Landlords — Plan  of  Study. 

This  is  to  me  a  memorable  year  ;  for  in  it  I  had  the  happiness  to 
obtain  the  acquaintance  of  that  extraordinary  man  whose  meraoira 
I  am  now  writing  ;  an  acquaintance  which  I  shall  ever  esteem  as 
one  of  the  most  fortunate  circumstances  in  my  life.  Though  then 
but  two  and  twenty,  I  had  for  several  years  read  his  works  with 
delight  and  instruction,  and  had  the  highest  reverence  for  their 
author,  which  had  grown  up  in  my  fancy  into  a  kind  of  mysterious 
veneration,  by  figuring  to  myself  a  state  of  solemn  elevated  abstrac- 
tion, in  which  I  supposed  him  to  live  in  the  immense  metropolis  of 
London.  Mr,  Gentleman,  a  native  of  Ireland,  who  passed  some 
years  in  Scotland  as  a  player,  and  as  an  instructor  in  the  English 
language,  a  man  whose  talents  and  worth  were  depressed  by  mis- 
fortunes, had  given  me  a  representation  of  the  figure  and  manner  of 
Dictionary  Johnson  1  as  he  was  then  generally  called  ;'  and  during 
my  first  visit  to  London,  which  was  for  three  months  in  It  GO,  Mr. 
Derrick  the  poet,  who  was  Gentleman's  friend  and  countryman, 
flattered  me  with  hopes  that  he  would  introduce  me  to  Johnson — an 
honour  of  which  I  was  very  ambitious.  But  he  never  found  an 
opportunity  ;  which  made  me  doubt  that  he  had  promised  to  do 

'  As  great  men  of  antiquity,  such  as  Scipio  Afiicanus,  had  an  epithet  added  to  their 
names,  in  consequence  of  some  celebrated  action,  so  my  illustrious  friend  was  often  called 
DiCTiON.iRT  JonNSON,  from  that  wonderful  achievement  of  genius  and  labour,  his  "  Dictionary 
tf  the  English  Language  ;"  the  merit  of  which  I  contemplate  with  more  and  more  adm'. 
t'atioD. — B. 

809 


8i(>  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  '•'*^- 

what  was  not  iu  his  power  ;  till  Johnson  some  years  afterwards  told 
me,  "  Derrick,  Sir,  might  very  well  have  introduced  you.  I  had  a 
kindness  for  Derrick,  and  am  sorry  he  is  dead." 

In  the  summer  of  1*161  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  '■  was  at  Edinburgh, 
and  delivered  lectures  upon  the  English  Language  and  Public 
Speaking  to  large  and  respectable  audiences.  I  was  often  in  his 
company,  and  heard  him  frequently  expatiate  upon  Johnson's 
extraordinary  knowledge,  talents,  and  virtues,  repeat  his  pointed 
sayings,  describe  his  particularities,  and  boast  of  his  being  his  guest 
sometimes  till  two  or  three  in  the  morning.  At  his  house  I  hoped  to 
have  many  opportunities  of  seeing  the  sage,  as  Mr.  Sheridan  oblig- 
ingly assured  me  I  should  not  be  disappointed. 

When  I  returned  to  London  in  the  end  of  1162,  to  my  surprise 
and  regret  I  found  an  irreconcileable  difference  had  taken  place 
between  Johnson  and  Sheridan.  A  pension  of  two  hundred  pounds 
a  year  had  been  given  to  Sheridan.  Johnson,  who,  as  has  been 
already  mentioned,  thought  slightingly  of  Sheridan's  art,  upon  hear- 
ing that  he  was  also  pensioned,  exclaimed,  "  What !  have  they 
given  hi?n  a  pension  ?  Then  it  is  time  for  me  to  give  up  mine." 
Whether  this  proceeded  from  a  momentary  indignation,  as  if  it  were 
an  affront  to  his  exalted  merit  that  a  player  should  be  rewarded  in 
the  same  manner  with  him,  or  was  the  sudden  effect  of  a  fit  of 
peevishness,  it  was  nnluckily  said,  and,  indeed,  cannot  be  justified. 
Mr.  Sheridan's  pension  was  granted  to  him,  not  as  a  player,  but  as  a 
sufferer  in  the  cause  of  government,  when  he  was  manager  of  tb" 
Theati'e  Royal  in  L'eland,  when  parties  ran  high  in  1753.*     And  it 

1  Thomas  Sheridan,  son  of  the  friend  of  Swift,  and  father  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  ^/a3 
born  at  Quiica,  in  Ireland,  in  1T'21,  and  died  in  17SS. 

■■^  Boswell^in  his  tenderness  to  the  amour  propre  of  Dr.  Johnson,  cannot  bear  to  admit  that 
Sheridan's  literary  character  had  anything  to  do  with  the  pension,  and  no  doubt  he  endea- 
voured to  soften  Johnson's  resentment  by  giving,  as  he  does  in  the  above  passage,  this  favour 
Si  political  colour  ;  but  there  seems  no  reason  to  believe  that  Sheridan's  pension  was  given  to 
him  as  a  sufferer  by  a  playhouse  riot.  It  was  probably  granted  {et  hina  illoR  lacrymm)  on 
the  same  motive  as  Johnson's  own,  namely,  the  desire  of  the  King  and  Lord  Bute  to  distin- 
guish the  commencement  of  the  new  reign  by  the  patronage  of  literature.  Indeed,  this  is  ren- 
dered almost  certain  by  various  passages  of  the  letters  of  Mrs.  Sheridan  to  Mr.  Whyte :  e.  g. 
"  London,  Nov.  29,  17C2. — Mr.  Sheridan  is  now,  as  I  mentioned  to  you  formerly,  busied  in  the 
English  Dictionary,  which  he  is  encouraged  to  pursue  with  the  more  alacrity  as  his  Majesty 
has  vouchsafed  him  such  a  mark  of  royal  favour.  I  suppose  you  have  heard  that  he  has 
granted  him  a  pension  of  £200  a  year,  merely  as  an  encouragement  to  his  undertaking,  and 
this  without  solicitation,  which  makes  it  the  more  viluable." — White's  Misc.  Nova,  page  t04, 
107,  111.— Crokkr. 


^'^TAT  M.  WKDUKllBURHfi.  oJ  i 

must  also  be  allowed  that  Le  was  a  man  of  literature,  and  had  con- 
siderably improved  the  arts  of  reading  and  spr'aking-  with  distinctness 
and  propriety. 

Besides,  Johnson  should  have  recollected  that  i\[r.  Slieridan  taught 
pronunciation  to  Mr.  Alexander  Wedderburne,  whose  sister  was 
married  to  Sir  Harry  Erskine,  an  intimate  friend  of  Lord  Bute,  who 
w^as  the  favourite  of  the  king  ;  and  surely  the  most  outrageous 
Whig  will  not  maintain,  that,  whatever  ought  to  be  the  principle  in 
the  disposal  of  oj/ices,  a  pension  ought  never  to  be  granted  from  any 
bias  of  court  connection.  Mr.  Macklin,  indeed,  shared  with  Mr. 
Sheridan  the  honour  of  instructing  Mr.  Wedderburne  ;  and  thougli 
it  was  too  late  in  life  for  a  Caledonian  to  acquire  the  genuine  English 
cadence,  yet  so  successful  were  Mr.  Weddcrburne's  instructors,  and 
bis  ownunabating  endeavours,  that  he  got  rid  of  the  coarse  part  of 
his  Scotch  accent,  retaining  only  as  much  of  the  "  native  wood-note 
wild,"  as  to  mark  his  country  ;  which,  if  any  Scotchman  should 
affect  to  forget,  I  should  heartily  despise  him.  Notwithstanding  tne 
difficulties  which  are  to  be  encountered  by  those  who  have  not  had 
the  advantage  of  an  English  education,  he  by  degrees  formed  a 
mode  of  speaking,  to  which  Englishmen  do  not  deny  the  praise  of 
elegance.  Hence  his  distinguished  oratory,  which  he  exerted  in  his 
own  country  as  an  advocate  in  the  Court  of  Session,  and  a  ruling 
elder  of  the  Kirk,  has  had  its  fame  and  ample  reward,  in  much 
higher  spheres.  When  I  look  back  on  this  noble  person  at  Edin- 
burgh, in  situations  so  unworthy  of  his  brilliant  powers,  and  behold 
Lord  Loughborough  at  London,  the  change  seems  almost  like  one 
of  the  metamorphoses  in  Ovid  ;  and  as  his  two  preceptors,  by  refin- 
ing his  utterance,  gave  currency  to  his  talents,  we  may  say  in  the 
words  of  that  poet,  "  A^am  vos  mutastis." 

I  have  dwelt  the  longer  upon  this  remarkable  instance  of  success- 
ful parts  and  assiduity  :  because  it  affords  animating  encourage- 
ment to  other  gentlemen  of  North  Britain  to  try  their  fortunes  in 
the  southern  part  of  the  island,  where  they  may  hope  to  gratify 
their  utmost  ambition  ;  and  now  that  we  are  one  people  by  the 
Union,  it  would  surely  be  illiberal  to  maintain,  that  they  have  not 
an  equal  title  with  the  natives  of  any  other  part  of  his  Majesty's 
dominions. 


312  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON. 


176S. 


Jonnson  complained  that  a  man  who  disliked  him  repeated  his 
sarcasm  to  Mr.  Sheridan,  without  telling  him  what  followed,  which 
was,  that  after  a  pause  he  added,  "  However,  I  am  glad  that  Mr. 
Sheridan  has  a  pension,  for  he  is  a  very  good  man."  Sheridan 
could  never  forgive  this  hasty  contemptuous  expression.  It  rankled 
in  his  mind  ;  and  though  I  informed  him  of  all  that  Johnson  said, 
and  that  he  would  be  very  glad  to  meet  him  amicably,  he  positively 
declined  repeated  oifers  which  I  made,  and  once  went  off  abruptly 
from  a  house  where  he  and  I  were  engaged  to  dine,  because  he  was 
told  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  to  be  there.  I  have  uo  sympathetic 
feeling  with  such  persevering  resentment.  It  is  painful  when  there 
is  a  breach  between  those  who  have  lived  together  socially  and  cor- 
dially ;  and  I  wonder  that  there  is  not,  in  all  such  cases,  a  mptual 
wish  that  it  should  be  healed.  I  could  perceive  that  Mr.  Sheridan 
was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  Johnson's  acknowledging  him  to  be 
a  good  man  That  could  not  soothe  his  injured  vanity.  I  could  not 
but  smile,  at  the  same  time  that  I  was  offended,  to  observe  Sheridan, 
in  the  Life  of  Swift,  which  he  afterwards  published,  attempting  in 
the  writhings  of  his  resentment  to  depreciate  Johnson,  by  character- 
ising him  as  "  A  writer  of  gigantic  fame,  in  these  days  of  little 
men  ;"  that  very  Johnson  whom  he  once  so  highly  admired  and 
venerated.* 

This  rupture  with  Sheridan  deprived  Johnson  of  one  of  his  most 
agreeable  resources  for  amusement  in  his  lonely  evenings  ;  for 
Sheridan's  well-informed,  animated,  and  bustling  mind  never  suffered 
conversation  to  stagnate  ;  and  Mrs.  Sheridan  was  a  most  agreeable 
companion  to  an  intellectual  man.  She  was  sensible,  ingenious, 
unassuming,  yet  communicative.  I  recollect,  with  satisfaction, 
many  pleasing  hours  which  I  passed  with  her  under  the  hospitable 
roof  of  her  husband,  who  was  to  me  a  very  kind  friend.  Her  novel, 
entitled  "  Memoirs  of  Miss  Sydney  Biddulph,"  contains  an  excellent 
moral,  while  it  inculcates  a  future  state  of  retribution  ;  and  what 
it  teaches  is  impressed  upon  the  mind  by  a  series  of  as  deep  distress 

'  Dr.  Johnson  had  depreciated  the  talents  and  character  of  Dr.  Swift,  not  merely  in  conver- 
lation,  but  in  his  "Lives  of  the  Poets."  Sheridan,  in  his  "  Life  of  Swift,"  advocated  the 
cause  of  the  dean,  for  whom  he  had  a  natural  and  hereditary  veneration ;  and  though  he 
observed  on  Johnson's  criticisms  and  censures  with  a  severity  shaipened  probably  by  hi» 
personal  feelings,  he  treated  him  on  all  other  points  with  moderation  and  respect. — C. 


Stat.  54.  BOSWELl's    INTUODUCnON.  313 

aj  can  affect  humanity,  in  the  amiable  and  pious  heroine  who  goe? 
to  her  grave  unrelieved,  but  resigned,  and  full  of  hope  of  "  heaven's 
mercy."  Johnson  paid  her  this  high  compliment  upon  it  :  "I  know 
not,  Madam,  that  you  have  a  right,  upon  moral  principles,  to  make 
your  readers  suffer  so  much." 

Mr.  Thomas  Davies  the  actor,  wlio  then  kept  a  bookseller's  shop 
in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden,'  told  me  that  Johnson  was  very 
much  his  friend,  and  came  frequently  to  his  house,  where  he  more 
than  once  invited  me  to  meet  him  ;  but  by  some  unlucky  accident 
or  other  he  was  prevented  from  coming  to  us. 

Mr.  Thomas  Davies,  was  a  man  of  good  understanaiug  and  tal- 
ents, with  ,the  advantage  of  a  liberal  education.  Though  somewhat 
polypous,  he  was  an  entertaining  companion  ;  and  his  literary  per- 
formances have  no  inconsiderable  share  of  merit.  He  was  a  friendly 
and  very  hospitable  man.  Both  he  and  his  wife  (who  has  been 
celebrated  for  her  personal  beauty),  though  upon  the  stage  for 
many  years,  maintained  an  uniform  decent  character  ;  and  Johnson 
esteemed  them,  and  lived  in  as  easy  an  intimacy  with  them  as  with 
any  family  which  he  used  to  visit.  Mr.  Davies  recollected  several  of 
Johnson's  remarkable  sayings,  and  was  one  of  the  best  of  the  many 
imitators  of  his  voice  and  manner,  while  relating  them.  He  in- 
creased my  impatience  more  and  more  to  see  the  extraordinary  man 
whose  works  I  highly  valued,  and  whose  conversation  was  reported 
to  be  so  peculiarly  excellent. 

At  last,  on  Monday,  the  16th  of  May,  when  I  was  sitting  in  Mr. 
Davies's  back-parlour,  after  having  drunk  tea  with  him  and  Mrs. 
Davies,  Johnson  unexpectedly  came  into  the  shop  ;  ^  •  and  Mr 
Davies  having  perceived  him  through  the  glass-door  in  the  room  in 

'  No.  8. — The  very  place  where  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  introduced  to  the  illustrious 
Bubject  of  this  work,  deserves  to  be  particularly  marked.  I  never  pass  by  it  without  feeling 
reverence  and  regret. 

^  Mr.  Murphy,  in  his  "  Essay  on  the  Life  and  Genius  of  Dr.  Johnson,"  [first  published  in 
1T93,]  has  given  an  account  of  this  meeting  considerably  different  from  mine,  I  am  persuaded 
without  any  consciousness  of  error.  His  memory,  at  the  end  of  near  thirty  years,  has 
undoubtedly  deceived  him,  and  he  supposes  himself  to  have  been  present  at  a  scene,  which 
he  has  probably  heard  inaccurately  described  by  others.  In  my  note  taken onthe  loery  day, 
in  which  I  am  confident  I  marked  everything  material  that  passed,  no  mention  is  made  ofthis 
gentleman  ;  and  I  am  sure,  that  I  should  not  have  omitted  one  so  well-known  in  the  literary 
world.  It  may  easily  be  imagined  that  this  my  first  interview  with  Dr.  Johnson,  with  all  its 
elrcumstances,  made  a  strong  impression  on  my  mind,  and  would  be  registered  with  peculiar 
ittention. 

VOL.  I.  14 


314  Lli'E    OF    JOUNSON. 


1T68* 


which  we  were  sittiug,  advanchig  towards  us, — he  anuouuced  his  aw- 
ful approach  to  me,  somewhat  in  the  manner  of  an  actor  in  the  part 
of  Horatio,  when  he  addresses  Hamlet  on  the  appearance  of  his 
father's  ghost,  "  Look,  my  lord,  it  comes."  I  found  that  I  had  a  very 
perfect  idea  of  Johnson's  figure,  from  the  portrait  of  him  painted  by 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  soon  after  he  had  published  his  Dictionary,  in 
the  attitude  of  sitting  in  his  easy  chair  in  deep  meditation  ;  which 
was  the  first  picture  his  friend  did  for  him,  which  Sir  Joshua  very 
kindly  presented  to  me,  and  from  which  an  engraving  has  been  made 
for  this  work.  Mr.  Davies  mentioned  my  name,  and  respectfully 
introduced  me  to  him.  I  was  much  agitated  ;  and  recollecting  his 
prejudice  against  the  Scotch,  of  which  I  had  heard  much,  I  said  to 
Davies,  "Don't  tell  where  I  come  from." — "From  Scotland,"  ftied 
Davies  roguishly.  "  Mr.  Johnson,"  said  I,  "  I  do  indeed  come  from 
Scotland,  but  I  cannot  help  it."  I  am  willing  to  flatter  myself 
that  I  meant  this  as  light  pleasantry  to  soothe  and  conciliate  him, 
and  not  as  an  humiliating  abasement  at  the  expense  of  my  country. 
But  however  that  might  be,  this  speech  was  somewhat  unlucky  ;  for 
with  that  quickness  of  wit  for  which  he  was  so  remarkable,  he 
seized  the  expression  "  come  from  Scotland,"  which  I  used  in  the 
sense  of  being  of  that  country  :  and,  as  if  I  had  said  that  I  had 
come  away  from  it,  or  left  it,  retorted,  "  That,  Sir,  I  find,  is  what 
a  very  great  many  of  your  countrymen  cannot  help."  This  stroke 
stunned  me  a  good  deal  ;  and  when  we  had  sat  down,  I  felt  myself 
not  a  little  embarrassed,  and  apprehensive  of  what  might  come  next. 
He  then  addressed  himself  to  Davies  :  "  What  do  you  think  of  Gar- 
rick  ?  He  has  refused  me  an  order  for  the  play  for  Miss  Williams, 
because  he  knows  the  house  will  be  full,  and  that  an  order  would  \  e 
worth  three  shillings."  Eager  to  take  any  opening  to  get  into  con 
versation  with  him,  I  ventured  to  say,  "  0  Sir,  I  cannot  think  Mr, 
Garrick  would  grudge  such  a  trifle  to  you."  "  Sir,"  said  he,  with  a 
stern  look,  "  I  have  known  David  Garrick  longer  than  you  have 
done  :  and  I  know  no  right  you  have  to  talk  to  me  on  the  subject." 
Perhaps  I  deserved  this  check  ;  for  it  was  rather  presumptuous  in 
me,  an  entire  stranger,  to  express  any  doubt  of  the  justice  of  his  ani- 
madversion jpon  his  old  acquaintance  and  pupil.'     I  now  felt  myself 

'  That  tliis  was  a  momentary  sally  against  Garridi  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  for  at  Johnson's 


*■■**■  54-  boswell's  introduction,  315 

much  mortified,  and  began  to  think  that  the  hope  which  I  had  long 
indulged  of  obtaining  his  acquaintance  was  blasted.  And,  in  truth, 
had  not  my  ardour  been  uncommonly  strong,  and  my  resolution  uu- 
commonly  persevering,  so  rough  a  reception  might  have  deterred 
me  for  ever  from  making  any  further  attempts.  Fortunately,  how- 
ever, I  remained  upon  the  field  not  wholly  discomfited  ;  and  was 
soon  rewarded  by  hearing  some  of  his  conversation,  of  which  I  pre- 
servec  the  following  short  minute,  without  marking  the  questions 
and  observations  by  which  it  was  produced. 

"  People,"  he  remarked,  "  may  be  taken  iu  once,  who  imagine 
that  an  author  is  greater  in  private  life  than  other  men.  Uu 
common  parts  require  uncommon  opportunities  for  their  exer 
tion, 

"  In  barbarous  society,  superiority  of  parts  is  of  real  consequence. 
Great  strength  or  great  wisdom  is  of  much  value  to  an  individual. 
But  iu  more  polished  times  there  are  people  to  do  everything  for 
mone\'  ;  and  then  there  are  a  number  of  other  superiorities,  such  as 
those  of  birth  and  fortune,  and  rank,  that  dissipate  men's  attention, 
and  leave  no  extraordinary  share  of  respect  for  persoual  and  intel- 
lectual superiority.  This  is  wisely  ordered  by  Providence,  to  pre- 
serve some  equality  among  mankind." 

"Sir,  this  book  ('The  Elements  of  Criticism,'  which  he  had 
taken  up)  is  a  pretty  essay,  and  deserves  to  be  held  in  some  estima- 
tion, though  much  of  it  is  chimerical." 

Speaking  of  one,  who  with  more  than  ordinary  boldness  attacked 
public  measures  and  the  royal  family,  he  said,  "  I  think  he  is  safe 
from  the  law,  but  he  is  an  abusive  scoundrel  ;  and  instead  of  ap- 
plying to  my  Lord  Chief  Justice  to  punish  him,  I  would  send  half 
a  dozen  footmen  and  have  him  well  ducked." 

"  The  notion  of  liberty  amuses  the  people  of  England,  and  helps 
to  keep  off  the  tcecUmii  vitce.  When  a  butcher  tells  you  that  his 
//curt  b/ceds  for  kis  country,  he  has,  in  fact,  no  uneasy  feeling." 

"  Sheridan  will  not  succeed   at   Bath  with   his   oratory.     Ridi- 

desire  he  had,  some  years  before,  given  a  benefit-night  at  his  theatre  to  this  very  person-, 
by  which  slie  had  got  two  hundred  pounds.  Johnson,  indeed,  upon  all  other  occasions,  when 
(  uas  in  his  company,  praised  the  very  liberal  charity  of  Garrick.  I  once  mentioned  to  him, 
"It  is  observed,  Sir,  tliat  you  attacic  (iarricli  yourself,  but  will  suffer  nobody  else  to  do  't.* 
Johnson  (smiling)  :  "  Why,  Sir,  that  is  true." — B. 


316  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*^ 

cule    has   gone   down    before   him,  and,    I   doubt,   Derrick   is  his 
enemy.* 

"  Derrick  may  do  very  well,  as  long  as  he  can  outrun  his  charac- 
ter ;  but  the  moment  his  character  gets  up  with  him,  it  is  all  over." 

It  is,  however,  but  just  to  record,  that  some  years  afterwards, 
when  I  reminded  him  of  this  sarcasm,  he  said,  "  Well,  but  Derrick 
has  now  got  a  character  that  he  need  not  run  away  from." 

I  was  highly  pleased  with  the  extraordinary  vigour  of  his  conver- 
sation, and  regretted  that  I  was  drawn  away  from  it  by  an  engage 
ment  at  another  place.  I  had,  for  a  part  of  the  evening,  been  left 
alone  with  him,  and  had  ventured  to  make  an  observation  now  and 
hen,  wliich  he  received  very  civilly  ;  so  that  I  was  satisfied  that 
though  there  was  a  roughness  in  his  manner,  there  was  no  ill-nature 
in  his  disposition.  Davies  followed  me  to  the  door,  and  when  I  com- 
plained to  him  a  little  of  the  hard  blows  which  the  great  man  had 
given  me,  he  kindly  took  upon  him  to  console  me  by  saying,  "  Don't 
be  uneasy.     I  can  see  he  likes  you  very  well." 

A  few  days  afterwards  I  called  on  Davies,  and  asked  him  if  he 
thought  I  might  take  the  liberty  of  waiting  on  Mr.  Johnson  at  his 
chambers  in  the  Temple.  He  said  I  certainly  might,  and  that  Mr. 
Johnson  would  take  it  as  a  compliment.  So  upon  Tuesday,  the 
24th  of  May,  after  having  been  enlivened  by  the  witty  sallies  of 
Messieurs  Thornton,  Wilkes,  Churchill,  and  Lloyd,  with  whom  I  had 
passed  the  morning,  I  boldly  repaired  to  Johnson.  His  chambers 
were  on  the  first  floor  of  No.  1,  Inner  Temple  Lane,  and  I  entered 
them  with  an  impression  given  me  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Blair,  of  Edin- 
burgh, who  had  been  introduced  to  me  not  long  before,  and 
described  his  having  "  found  the  Giant  in  his  den  ;"  an  expression 
which,  when  I  came  to  be  pretty  well  acquainted  with  Johnson,  I 
repeated  to  him,  and  he  was  diverted  at  this  picturesque  account  of 
himself.  Dr.  Blair  had  been  presented  to  him  by  Dr.  James  For- 
dyce.  At  this  time  the  controversy  concerning  the  pieces  published 
by  Mr.  James  ]\Iacpherson,  as  translations  of  Ossian,  was  at  its 
lieight.  Johnson  had  all  along  denied  their  authenticity,  and,  what 
was  still  more  provoking  to  their  admirers,  maintained  that  they 

Afr.  Sheridan  was  then  reading  lectures  upon  Oratory  at  Bath,  where  Derrick  was  Maatef 
of  the  Ceremoni'js  ;  or,  as  tlic  phrase  is,  King. 


*'*''•  ^  boswell's  first  visit.  317 

had  DO  merit.  The  subject  having  been  introduced  by  Dr.  Fordyce, 
Dr.  Blair,  relying  on  the  internal  evidence  of  their  antiquity,  asked 
Dr.  Johnson  whether  he  thought  any  man  of  a  modern  age  could 
have  written  such  poems  ?  Johnson  replied,  "  Yes,  Sir,  many  men, 
many  women,  and  many  children."  Johnson,  at  this  time,  did  not 
know  that  Dr.  Blair  had  just  published  a  Dissertation,  not  only 
defending  their  authenticity,  but  seriously  ranking  them  with  the 
poems  of  Homer  and  Virgil  ;  and  when  he  was  afterwards  informed 
of  this  circumstance,  he  expressed  spme  displeasure  at  Dr.  Fordyce's 
having  suggested  the  topic,  and  said,  "  I  am  not  sorry  that  they  got 
thus  much  for  their  pains,  "feir,  it  was  like  leading  one  to  talk  of  a 
book,  when  the  author  is  concealed  behind  the  door." 

He  received  me  very  courteously  ;  but,  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
his  apartment,  and  furniture,  and  morning  dress,  were  sufficiently 
uncouth.  His  brown  suit  of  clothes  looked  very  rusty  ;  he  had  on 
a  little  old  shrivelled  unpowdered  wig,  which  was  too  small  for  his 
head  ;  his  shirt-neck  and  knees  of  his  breeches  were  loose  ;  his 
black  worsted  stockings  ill  drawn  up  ;  and  he  had  a  pair  of  un- 
buckled shoes  by  way  of  slippers.  But  all  these  slovenly  particu- 
larities were  forgotten  the  moment  that  he  began  to  talk.  Some 
gentlemen,  whom  I  do  not  recollect,  were  sitting  with  him  ;  and 
when  they  went  away,  I  also  rose  ;  but  he  said  to  me,  "  Nay,  don't 
go."  "  Sir,"  said  I,  "  I  am  afraid  that  I  intrude  upon  you.  It  is 
benevolent  to  allow  me  to  sit  and  hear  you."  He  seemed  pleased 
with  this  compliment,  which  I  sincerely  paid  him,  and  answered, 
"  Sir,  I  am  obliged  to  any  man  who  visits  me."  I  have  preserved 
the  following  short  minute  of  what  passed  this  day. 

"  Madness  frequently  discovers  itself  merely  by  unnecessary  devia- 
tion from  the  usual  modes  of  the  world.  My  poor  friend  Smart 
showed  the  disturbance  of  his  mind,  by  falling  upon  his  knees  and 
saying  his  prayers  in  the  street,  or  in  any  other  unusual  place. 
Now,  although,  rationally  speaking,  it  is  greater  madness  not  to 
pray  at  all,  than  to  pray  as  Smart  did,  I  am  afraid  there  are  so 
many  who  do  not  pray,  that  their  understanding  is  not  called  in 
question." 

Concerning  this  unfortunate  poet,  Christopher  Smart,  who  was 
lonfiued  in  a  mad-house,  he  had,  at  another  time,  the  following  con- 


Zlb  LIFi-    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^' 

versation  with  Dr.  Burney.  Bckney.  "  How  does  poor  Smart  do, 
Sir  ?  is  he  likely  to  recover  V  Johnson.  "  It  seems  as  if  his  mind 
had  ceased  to  struggle  with  the  disease  ;  for  he  grows  fat  upon  it." 
Burney.  "  Perhaps,  Sir,  that  may  be  from  want  of  exercise." 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  he  has  partly  as  much  exercise  as  he  used  to 
have,  for  he  digs  in  the  garden.  Indeed,  before  his  confinement, 
he  used  for  exercise  to  walk  to  the  ale-house  ;  but  he  was  carried 
back  again.  I  did  not  think  he  ought  to  be  shut  up.  His  iufirmi 
ties  were  not  noxious  to  society.  He  insisted  on  people  praying 
with  him  ;  and  I'd  as  lief  pray  with.  Kit  Smart  as  any  one  else. 
Another  charge  was,  that  he  did  not  love  clean  hnea  :  and  I  have 
no  passion  for  it." 

Johnson  continued.  "  Mankind  have  a  great  aversion  to  intellec- 
tual labor  ;  but  even  supposing  knowledge  to  be  easily  attainable, 
more  people  would  be  content  to  be  ignorant  than  would  take  even  a 
little  trouble  to  acquire  it." 

"  The  morality  of  an  action  depends  on  the  motive  from  which  we 
act.  If  I  fling  half  a  crown  to  a  beggar  with  intention  to  break 
his  head,  and  he  picks  it  up  and  buys  victuals  with  it,  the  physical 
effect  is  good  ;  but,  with  respect  to  me,  the  action  is  very  wrong. 
So,  religious  exercises,  if  not  performed  with  an  intention  to  please 
God,  avail  us  nothing.  As  our  Saviour  says  of  those  who  perform 
them  from  other  motives,  '  Verily  they  have  their  reward.' 

"  The  Christian  religion  has  very  strong  evidences.  It,  indeed, 
appears  in  some  degree  strange  to  reason  ;  but  in  History  we  have 
undoubted  facts,  against  which,  in  reasoning  a  priori,  we  have  more 
arguments  than  we  have  for  them  :  but  then,  testimony  has  great 
weiglit,  and  casts  the  balance.  I  would  recommend  to  every  man 
whose  faith  is  yet  unsettled,  Grotius,  Dr.  Pearson,  and  Dr.  Clarke." 
Talking  of  Garrick,  he  said,  "  He  is  the  first  man  in  the  world 
for  sprightly  conversation." 

Wlieu  I  rose  a  second  time,  he  again  pressed  me  to  stay,  which 
I  did. 

He  told  me  that  he  generally  went  abroad  at  four  in  the  after- 
noon, and  seldom  came  home  till  two  in  the  morning.  I  took  the 
liberty  to  ask  if  he  did  not  tliiuk  it  wrong  to  live  thus,  and  not  make 
more  use  of  his  great  talents.      He  owned  it  was  a  bad  habit.     Ob 


^TAT.  54.  Johnson  the  equestrian.  319 

reviewing,  at  the  distance  of  many  years,  my  journal  of  this  period, 
I  wonder  bow,  at  my  first  visit,  I  ventured  to  talk  to  him  so  freely, 
and  that  he  bore  it  with  so  much  indulgence. 

Before  we  parted,  he  was  so  good  as  to  promise  to  favour. me 
with  his  company  one  evening  at  my  lodgings  ;  and,  as  I  took  my 
leave,  shook  me  cordially  by  the  hand.  It  is  almost  needless  to  add 
that  I  felt  no  little  elation  at  having  now  so  happily  established  an 
acquaintance  of  which  I  had  been  so  long  ambitious. 

My  readers  will,  I  trust,  excuse  me  for  being  thus  minutely  cir- 
cumstantial, when  it  is  considered  that  the  acquaintance  of  Dr.  John- 
son was  to  me  a  most  valuable  acquisition,  and  laid  the  foundation 
of  whatever  instruction  and  entertainment  they  may  receive  from 
my  collections  concerning  the  great  subject  of  the  work  which  they 
are  now  perusing. 

I  did  not  visit  him  again  till  Monday,  June  13,  at  which  time  I 
recollect  no  part  of  his  conversation,  except  that  when  I  told  him 
1  had  been  to  see  Johnson  ride  upon  three  horses,  he  said,  "  Such  a 
man,  Sir,  should  be  encouraged  ;  for  his  performances  shew  the 
extent  of  human  powers  in  one  instance,  and  thus  tend  to  raise  our 
opinion  of  the  faculties  of  man.  He  shews  what  may  be  attained  by 
persevering  application  ;  so  that  every  man  may  hope,  that  by 
giving  as  much  application,  although  perhaps  he  may  never  ride 
three  horses  at  a  time,  or  dance  upon  a  wire,  yet  he  may  be  equally 
expert  in  whatever  profession  he  has  chosen  to  pursue." 

He  again  shook  me  by  the  hand  at  parting,  and  asked  me  why  I 
did  not  come  oftener  to  him.  Trusting  that  I  was  now  in  his  good 
graces,  I  answered,  that  he  had  not  given  me  much  encouragement, 
and  reminded  him  of  the  check  I  had  received  from  him  at  our  first 
interview.  "  Poh,  poh  !"  said  he,  with  a  complacent  smile,  "  never 
mind  these  things.  Come  to  me  as  often  as  you  can.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  you." 

I  had  learnt  that  his  place  of  frequent  resort  was  the  Mitre 
Tavern  in  Fleet  Street,  where  he  loved  to  sit  up  late,  and  I  begged 
I  might  be  allowed  to  pass  an  evening  with  him  there  soon,  which 
he  i)romised  I  should.  A  few  days  afterwards  I  met  him  near 
Temple  Bar,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  asked  if  he 
wouid  then  go  to  the  Mitre.     "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  it  is  too  late  ;  they 


520  LIFE    OF    JOHNSOJf.  ^'^* 

won't  let  us  in.  But  I'll  go  with  you  another  night  with  all  my 
heart." 

A  revolution  of  some  importance  in  my  plan  of  life  had  just  taken 
place  ;  for  instead  of  procuring  a  commission  in  the  foot-guards, 
which  was  my  own  inclination,  I  had,  ,in  compliance  with  my  father's 
wishes,  agreed  to  study  the  law,  and  was  soon  to  set  out  for 
Utrecht,  to  hear  the  lectures  of  an  excellent  civilian  in  that  Uuiver* 
sity,  and  then  to  proceed  on  my  travels.  Though  very  desirous  of 
obtaining  Dr.  Johnson's  advice  and  instructions  on  the  mode  of  pur- 
suing my  studies,  I  was  at  this  time  so  occupied,  shall  I  call  it  ?  or 
so  dissipated,  by  the  amusements  of  London,  that  our  next  meeting 
was  not  till  Saturday,  June  25,  when,  happening  to  dine  at  Clifton's 
eating-house,  in  Butcher  Row,  I  was  surprised  to  perceive  Johnson 
come  in  and  take  his  seat  at  another  table.  The  mode  of  dining,  or 
rather  being  fed,  at  such  houses  in  London,  is  well  known  to  many 
to  be  particularly  unsocial,  as  there  is  no  Ordinary,  or  united  com- 
pany, but  each  person  has  his  own  mess,  and  is  under  no  obligation 
to  hold  any  intercourse  with  any  one.  A  liberal  and  full-minded 
man,  however,  who  loves  to  talk,  will  break  through  this  churlish 
and  unsocial  restraint.  Johnson  and  an  Irish  gentleman  got  into  a 
dispute  concerning  the  cause  of  some  part  of  mankind  being  black. 
'•'Why,  Sir,"  said  Johnson,  "it  has  been  accounted  for  in  three 
ways  :  either  by  supposing  that  they  are  the  posterity  of  Ham,  who 
was  cursed ;  or  that  God  at  first  created  two  kinds  of  men,  one 
black  and  another  white  ;  or  that  by  the  heat  of  the  sun  the  skin  is 
scorched,  and  so  acquires  a  sooty  hue.  This  matter  has  been  much 
canvassed  among  naturalists,  but  has  never  been  brought  to  any 
certain  issue."  What  the  Irishman  said  is  totally  obliterated  from 
my  miud  ;  but  I  remember  that  he  became  very  warm  and  intem- 
perate in  his  expressions  ;  upon  which  Johnson  rose,  and  quietly 
R'alked  away.  When  he  had  retired,  his  antagonist  took  hia 
Tevenge,  as  he  thought,  by  saying,  "  He  has  a  most  ungainly  figure, 
and  an  aifectation  of  pomposity  unworthy  of  a  man  of  genius," 

Johnson  had  not  observed  that  I  was  in  the  room.  I  followed 
him,  however,  and  he  agreed  to  meet  me  in  the  evening  at  the 
Mitre.  I  called  on  him,  and  we  went  thither  at  nine.  We  had  a 
good  supper,  and  port  wine,  of  which  he  then  sometimes  drank  a 


^-f^-r-^-  COLLEY    CIBfiER— GRAV.  821 

bottle.  Tlie  orthodox  bigli-chureh  sound  of  The  Mitre — the  figure 
and  Hianiicr  of  the  celebrated  Samuel  Johxson — the  extraordinary 
power  and  precision  of  his  conversation,  and  the  pride  arising  from 
finding  myself  admitted  as  his  companion,  produced  a  variety  of 
sensations,  and  a  pleasing  elevation  of  mind  beyond  what  I  had 
ever  before  experienced.  I  find  in  my  Journal  the  following  minute 
of  our  conversation,  which,  though  it  will  give  but  a  very  faint 
notion  of  what  passed,  is,  in  spme  degree,  a  valuable  record  ;  and 
it  will  be  curious  in  this  view,  as  shewing  how  habitual  to  his  mind 
were  some  opinions  which  appear  in  his  works. 

"  CoUey  Gibber,'  Sir,  was  by  no  means  a  blockhead;  but  Ly 
arrogating  to  himself  too  much,  he  was  in  danger  of  losing  that 
degree  of  estimation  to  which  he  was  entitled.  His  friends  gave  out 
that  he  intended  his  birth-day  Odes  should  be  bad  ;  but  that  was 
Qot  the  case,  Sir  ;  for  he  kept  them  many  months  by  him,  and  a  few 
years  before  he  died,  he  shewed  me  one  of  them,  with  great  solici* 
tude  to  render  it  as  perfect  as  might  be,  and  I  made  some  correc- 
tions, to  which  he  was  not  very  willing  to  submit.  I  remember  the 
following  couplet  in  allusion  to  the  King  and  himself  : — 

"  'Perch'd  on  the  eagle's  soaring  wing, 
The  lowly  linnet  loves  to  sing.' 

Sir,  he  had  heard  something  of  the  fabulous  tale  of  the  wren  sitting 
upon  the  eagle's  wing,  and  he  had  applied  it  to  a  linnet.  Gibber's 
familiar  style,  however,  was  better  than  that  which  Whitehead  has 
assumed.  Grand  nonsense  is  insupportable.  "Whitehead  is  but  a 
little  man  to  inscribe  verses  to  players." 

I  did  not  presume  to  controvert  this  censure,  which  was  tinctured 
with  his  prejudice  against  players  ;  but  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  a  dramatic  poet  might  with  propriety  pay  a  compliment  to  aa 
eminent  performer,  as  Whitehead  has  very  happily  done  in  his  verses 
to  Mr.  Gari'ick. 

'  Collej-  Gibber  was  born  in  1671,  bore  arms  in  favour  of  the  revolution,  and  soon  after  went 
on  the  stage  as  an  actor.  In  1695  he  appeared  as  a  writer  of  comedies  with  great  and 
deserved  success.  He  quitted  the  stage  in  1730,  on  being  appointed  poet  laureate,  and  died  in 
1757.  His  Memoirs  of  his  own  Life,  under  the  modest  title  of  an  "Apology,"  is  not  only  a 
very  amusing  collection  of  theatrical  anecdotes,  but  shows  considerable  r>ow«r  '(f  oUserviUop 
Had  delineation  of  character. — C. 


322  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOJJ.  ^^^ 

"  Sir,  I  do  not  thiuk  Gray  a  first-rate  poet.  He  has  not  a  bold 
imagination,  nor  much  coraraand  of  words,  Tlie  obscurity  in  which 
ne  has  involved  himself  will  not  persuade  us  that  he  is  sublime.  His 
Elegy  in  a  Churchyard  has  a  happy  selection  of  images  \  but  I  don't 
like  what  are  called  his  great  things.     His  ode  which  begins — 

'  Ruin  seize  thee,  ruthless  King, 
Confusion  on  thy  banners  wait ! 

has  been  celebrated  for  its  abruptness,  and  plunging  hito  the  subject 
all  at  once.  But  such  arts  as  these  have  no  merit,  unless  when  they 
are  original.  We  admire  them  only  once  ;  and  this  abruptness  has 
nothing  new  in  it.  We  have  had  it  often  before.  Nay,  we  have 
it  in  the  old  song  of  Johnny  Armstrong  : — 

•  '  Is  there  ever  a  man  in  all  Scotland 

From  the  highest  estate  to  the  lowest  degree,  &c.' 

And  then,  Sir, 

'  Yes,  there  is  a  man  in  Westmoreland, 
And  Johnny  Armstrong  they  do  him  call.' 

There,  now,  you  plunge  at  once  into  the  subject.  You  have  no  pre- 
vious narration  to  lead  you  to  it. — The  two  next  lines  in  that  Ode 
are,  I  think,  very  good  : — 

'  Though  fann'd  by  conquest's  crimson'd  wing, 
They  mock  the  air  with  idle  state.' "  ^ 

Here  let  it  be  observed,  that  although  his  opinion  of  Gray's  poetry 
was  widely  different  from  mine,  and,  I  believe,  from  that  of  most  men 
of  taste,  by  whom  it  is  with  justice  highly  admired,  there  is  certainly 
much  absurdity  in  the  clamour  which  has  been  raised,  as  if  he  had 
been  culpably  injurious  to  the  merit  of  that  bard,  and  had  been 
actuated  by  envy.     Alas  1  ye  little  short-sighted  critics,  could  John- 

'  And  surely  a  happy  selection  of  expressions.  What  does  it  then  want  ?  Aa  to  the  criti- 
cism and  quotations  which  follow,  they  might  be  pardonable  in  loose  conversation  ;  but  John- 
son, unluckily  for  his  own  reputation,  has  preserved  them  in  his  criticism  on  Gray,  iu  the 
Lives  of  the  Poets. — C. 

2  My  friend  Mr.  Malone,  in  his  valuable  comments  on  Shakspeare,  has  traced  in  that  great 
poet  the  disjecM  inerribra  of  these  lines. 


*^^T-  ^  GRAY— BOSWELL.  323 

Boa  be  euvious  of  the  talents  of  any  of  his  contemporaries  ?  That 
his  opinion  on  this  subject  was  what  in  private  and  in  pubhc  he  uni- 
formly expressed,  regardless  of  what  others  might  think,  we  may 
wonder,  and  perhaps  regret  ;  but  it  is  shallow  and  unjust  to  charge 
him  with  expressing  what  he  did  not  think. 

Finding  him  in  a  placid  humour,  and  wishing  to  avail  myself  of 
the  opportunity  which  I  fortunately  had  of  consulting  a  sage,  to 
hetr  whose  wisdom,  I  conceived,  iu  the  ardour  of  youthful  imagina- 
tion, that  men  filled  with  a  noble  enthusiasm  for  intellectual 
improvement  would  gladly  have  resorted  from  distant  lands  ; — I 
opened  my  mind  to  him  ingenuously,  and  gave  him  a  little  sketch 
of  my  life,  to  which  he  was  pleased  to  listen  with  great  atten- 
tion. 

[  acknowledged,  that  though  educated  very  strictly  in  the  princi- 
ples of  religion,  I  had  for  some  time  been  misled  into  a  certain 
djgrce  of  infidelity  ;  but  that  I  was  come  now  to  a  better  way  of 
tiinking,  and  was  fully  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  revela- 
t;on,  though  I  was  not  clear  as  to  every  point  considered  to  be 
orthodox.  Being  at  all  times  a  curious  examiner  of  the  human 
mind,  and  pleased  with  an  undisguised  display  of  what  had  passed  iu 
it,  he  called  to  me  with  warmth,  "  Give  me  your  hand:  I  have  taken 
a  liking  to  you."  He  then  began  to  descant  upon  the  force  of  tes- 
timony, and  the  little  we  could  know  of  final  causes  ;  so  that  the 
objections  of.  Why  was  it  so  ?  or.  Why  was  it  not  so  ?  ought  not  to 
disturb  us  :  adding,  that  he  himself  had  at  one  period  been  guilty  of 
a  temporary  neglect  of  religion  ;  but  that  it  was  not  the  result  of 
argument,  but  mere  absence  of  thought. 

After  having  given  credit  to  reports  of  his  bigotry,  I  was  agree- 
ably surprised  when  he  expressed  the  following  very  liberal  senti- 
ment, which  has  the  additional  value  of  obviating  an  objection  to 
our  holy  religion,  founded  upon  the  discordant  tenets  of  (JLristiuus 
themselves  : — "  For  my  part.  Sir,  I  think  all  Christians,  whether 
Papists  or  Protestants,  agree  in  the  essential  articles,  and  that  their 
diflerences  are  trivial,  and  rather  political  than  religious." 

AVe  talked  of  belief  iu  ghosts.     lie  said,  "  Sir,  I  make  a  distinc- 
tion between  what  a  man  may  experience  by  the  mere  strength  of  * 
his  imagination,   and   what  imagination  cannot  possibly  produce. 


824  .  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^*^ 

Tt  US,  suppose  I  should  think  that  I  saw  a  form,  and  heard  a  voice 
cry  '  Johnson,  you  are  a  very  wicked  fellow,  and  unless  you  repent 
you  will  certainly  be  punished:'  my  own  unworthiness  is  so  deeply 
impressed  upon  my  mind,  that  I  might  imagine  I  thus  saw  and  heard, 
and  therefore  I  should  not  believe  that  an  external  communi- 
cation had  been  made  to  me.  But  if  a. form  should  appear,  and 
a  voice  should  tell  me  that  a  particular  man  had  died  at  a 
particular  place,  and  a  particular  hour,  a  fact  which  I  had  no  appre- 
hension of,  nor  any  means  of  knowing,  and  this  fact,  with  ali  its 
circumstances,  should  afterwards  be  unquestionably  proved,  I  should 
in  that  case  be  persuaded  that  I  had  supernatural  intelligence 
imparted  to  me." 

Here  it  is  proper,  once  for  all,  to  give  a  true  and  fair  statement 
of  Johnson's  way  of  thinking  upon  the  question,  whether  departed 
spirits  are  ever  permitted  to  appear  in  this  world,  or  in  any  way  to 
operate  upon  human  life.  He  has  been  ignorantly  misrepresented  as 
weakly  credulous  upon  that  subject ;  and,  therefore,  though  I  fiel 
an  inclination  to  disdain,  and  treat  with  silent  contempt,  so  foolish  a 
notion  concerning  my  illustrious  friend,  yet,  as  I  find  it  has  gainei 
ground,  it  is  necessary  to  refute  it.  The  real  fact  then  is,  that 
Johnson  had  a  very  philosophical  mind,  and  such  a  rational  respec\ 
for  testimony,  as  to  make  him  submit  his  understanding  to  what  was 
authentically  proved,  though  he  could  not  comprehend  why  it  was 
so.  Being  thus  disposed,  he  was  willing  to  inquire  into  the  truth 
of  any  relation  of  supernatural  agency,  a  general  belief  of  which  has 
prevailed  in  all  nations  and  ages.  But  so  far  was  he  from  being 
the  dupe  of  implicit  faith,  that  he  examined  the  matter  with  a  jea- 
lous attention,  and  no  man  was  more  ready  to  refute  its  falsehood 
when  he  had  discovered  it.  Churchill,  in  his  poem  entitled  "  The 
Ghost,"  availed  himself  of  the  absurd  credulity  imputed  to  Johnson, 
and  drew  a  caricature  of  him  under  the  name  of  "  Pomposo," 
representing  him  as  one  of  the  believers  of  the  story  of  a  ghost  in 
Cock-lane,  which,  in  the  year  1162,  had  gained  very  general  credit 
in  London.  Many  of  my  readers,  I  am  convinced,  are  to  this  hour 
und«r  an  impression  that  Johnson  was  thus  foolishly  deceived.  It 
will  therefore  surprise  them  a  good  deal  when  they  are  informed 
upon  uadoubted  autnority,  tnat  Johnson  was  one  of  those  by  whom 


*'AT.  W.  THF    COCK-LANE    GHOST.  325 

the  imposture  was  detected.'  The  story  had  become  so  popular,  that 
he  thought  it  should  be  iuvestigated  ;  and  in  this  research  he  was 
assisted  by  the  Rev.  Dr,  Douglas,  now  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  the  great 
detecter  of  impostures  ;  who  informs  me,  that  after  the  gentlemen 
who  went  and  examined  into  the  evidence  were  satisfied  of  its 
falsity,  Johnson  wrote  in  -their  presence  an  account  of  it,  which  was 
published  in  the  newspapers  and  Gentleman's  Magazine,  and  unde- 
ceived the  world.' 

■  No  rational  man  doubted  that  inquiry  would  lead  to  detection  ;  men  only  wondered  that 
Dr.  Johnson  should  so  far  give  countenance  to  this  flimsy  imposition  as  to  think  a  solemn 
Inquiry  necessary — C.  * 

'^  The  account  was  as  follows :  "  On  the  night  of  the  1st  of  February,  many  gentlemen,  emi- 
nent for  their  rank  and  character,  were,  by  the  invitation  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Aldrich,  of  Clerken- 
well,  assembled  at  his  house,  for  the  examination  of  the  noises  supposed  to  be  made 
by  a  departed  spirit,  for  the  detection  of  some  enormous  crime. — About  ten  at  niglit  the  gen- 
tlemen met  in  the  chamber  in  which  the  girl,  supposed  to  be  disturbed  by  a  spirit,  had,  with 
proper  caution,  been  put  to  bed  by  several  ladies.  They  sat  rather  more  than  an  hour,  and 
hearing  nothing,  went  down  stairs,  when  they  interrogated  the  father  of  the  girl,  who  denied, 
in  the  strongest  terms,  any  knowledge  or  belief  of  fraud. — The  supposed  spirit  had  before  pub- 
licly promised,  by  an  affirmative  knock,  that  it  would  attend  one  of  the  gentlemen  into  the 
•7ault  under  the  church  of  St.  John,  Clerkenwell,  where  the  body  is  deposited,  and  give  a 
token  of  her  presence  there,  by  a  knock  upon  her  coffin  ;  it  was  therefore  determined  to  make 
this  trial  of  the  existence  or  veracity  of  the  supposed  spirit.^ — While  they  were  inquiring  and 
deliberating,  they  were  summoned  into  the  girl's  chamber  by  some  ladies  who  were  near  her 
bed,  and  who  had  heard  knocks  and  scratches.  When  the  gentlemen  entered,  the  girl 
declared  that  she  felt  the  spirit  like  a  mouse  upon  her  back,  and  was  required  to  hold  her 
hands  out  of  bed.  From  that  time,  though  the  spirit  was  very  solemnly  required  to  manifest 
its  existence  by  appearance,  by  impression  on  the  hand  or  body  of  any  present,  by  scratches, 
knocks,  or  any  other  agency,  no  evidence  of  any  preternatural  power  was  exhibited. — "  The 
spirit  was  then  very  seriously  advertised,  that  the  person  to  whom  the  promise  was  made  of 
striking  the  coffin  was  then  about  to  visit  the  vault,  and  that  the  performance  of  the  promise 
was  then  claimed.  The  company  at  one  o'clock  went  into  the  church,  and  the  gentleman  to 
whom  the  promise  was  made  went  with  another  into  the  vault.  The  spirit  was  solemnly 
required  to  perform  its  promise,  but  nothing  more  than  silence  ensued :  the  person  supposed 
to  be  accused  by  the  spirit  then  went  down  with  several  others,  but  no  effect  was  perceived. 
Upon  their  return  they  examined  the  girl,  but  could  draw  no  confession  from  her.  Between 
two  and  tliree  she  desired  and  was  permitted  to  go  home  with  her  father. — It  is,  therefore,  the 
opinion  of  the  whole  assembly,  that  the  child  has  some  art  of  making  or  counterfeiting  a  par 
ticular  noise,  and  that  there  is  no  agency  of  any  higher  cause." — Boiswell. 

Mr.  Saunders  Welch,  Johnson's  intimate  friend,  would  have  dissuaded  him  from  his  pur- 
pose of  visiting  the  place,  urging  that  it  would  expose  him  to  ridicule  ;  but  all  his  arguments 
nad  no  effect.  What  Mr.  Welch  foretold,  was  verified ;  he  was  censured  for  his  credulity,  his 
wisdom  was  arraigned,  and  his  religious  opinions  resolved  into  superstition. — Nor  was  this  all: 
that  facetious  gentleman,  Foote,  who  had  assumed  the  name  of  the  modern  Aristophanes,  and 
at  his  theatre  had  long  entertained  the  town  with  caricatures  of  living  persons,  thought  that 
at  this  time  a  drama,  in  which  himself  should  represent  Johnson,  and  in  his  mien,  his 
garb,  and  his  speech,  should  display  all  his  comic  powers,  would  yield  him  a  golden  harvest. 
Johnson  was  apprised  of  his  intention;  and  gave  Mr.  Foote  to  understand  that  the  Ucenee 
under  which  he  was  permitted  to  entertain  the  town  would  not  justify  the  liberties  he  wa» 


326  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

Our  conversation  proceeded.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  friend  to 
subordination,  as  most  conducive  to  the  happiness  of  society.  There 
is  a  reciprocal  pleasure  in  governing  and  being  governed." 

"Dr.  Goldsmith  is  one  of  the  first  men  we  now  have  as  an  author, 
and  he  is  a  very  worthy  man  too.  He  has  been  loose  in  his  princi- 
ples, but  he  is  coming  right." 

I  mentioned  Mallet's  tragedy  of  "  Elvira,"  which  had  been  acted 
the  preceding  winter  at  Drury-lane,  and  that  the  Hon.  Andrew 
Erskine,  Mr.  Dempster,"  and  myself,  had  joined  in  writing  a  pam- 
phlet, entitled  "  Critical  Strictures,"  against  it.^  That  the  mildness 
of  Dempster's  disposition  had,  however,  relented  ;  and  he  had  can 
didly  said,  "We  have  hardly  a  right  to  abuse  this  tragedy  ;  foi, 
bad  as  it  is,  how  vain  should  either  of  us  be  to  write  one  not  near 

accustomed  to  take  with  private  characters,  and  that  if  he  persisted  in  his  design,  he  would, 
by  a  severe  chastisement  of  his  representative  on  tho  stage,  and  in  the  face  of  the  whole 
audience,  convince  the  world,  that  whatever  were  his  .nfirraities,  or  even  his  foibles,  they 
should  not  be  made  the  sport  of  the  public,  or  the  means  of  gain  to  any  one  of  his  profession. 
Foote,  upon  this  intimation,  had  discretion  enough  to  desist  from  his  purpose.  Johnsop  enter- 
tained no  resentment  against  him,  and  they  were  ever  after  friends. — Hawkins. 

'  George  Dempster,  of  Uunnichen,  secretary  to  the  Order  of  the  Thistle,  and  long  M.P.  for 
Fife,  &c.  He  was  a  man  of  talents  and  very  agreeable  manners.  Burns  mentions  him  more 
than  once  with  eulogj-.  As  Mr.  Dempster  lived  a  good  deal  in  Johnson's  society,  the  reader 
may  be  glad  to  see  the  following  slip-shod  but  characteristic  epitaph  (communicated  to  me  by 
Bir  Vi' alter  Scott),  which  he  made  on  himself: — 

"  Pray  for  the  soul  of  deceased  George  Dempster, 
In  liis  youth  a  great  fool,  in  his  old  age  a  gamester.* 
What  j'ou're  curious  to  know  on  this  tomb  you  shall  see  : — 
Life's  thread  he  let  go,  when  just  ninety-three. 
So  sound  was  his  bottom,  his  acquaintance  all  wondered 
How  old  Nick  had  got  him,  till  he  lived  out  the  hundred. 
To  his  money  concerns,  he  paid  little  attention, 
First  selling  his  land,  then  pawning  his  pension. 
But  his  precious  time,  he  much  better  did  manage  ; — 
To  the  end  of  his  line,  from  his  earliest  nonage, 
He  divided  his  hours  into  two  equal  parts, 
And  spent  one  half  in  sleeping,  the  other  at  cartes."i 

[In  1790,  Mr.  Dempster  retired  from  parliament,  and  devoted  himself  to  tlie  impro  rement 
of  agi-iculture  and  tlie  fisheries,     lie  died  in  1818,  aged  82.] — B. 

■■^  The  Critical  Review,  in  which  Mallet  himself  sometimes  wrote,  characterised  this  pamph- 
let as  "  the  crude  efforts  of  envy,  petulance,  and  self-conceit  "  There  being  thus  three  epi- 
thets, we,  the  three  authors,  had  a  humorous  contention  how  each  should  be  appro- 
priated.— B. 

•  Gamester,  Scottice,  may  rhyme  with  Dempster.  He,  however,  only  played  for  ti'jfies: 
Indeed,  the  whole  thing  is  a  mere  badinage. — W.  Scott. 

t  The  Scotch,  in  familiar  life,  retain  many  French  words  tokens  of  their  early  intercours* 
with  France),  and  among  others  cartca  for  cards. — U 


^■■f^''-^"  SUPPER    AT    THE    MITRa.  32t 

SO  good  !"  Johnson — "  Why  no,  Sir  ;  this  is  not  just  reasonmg. 
You  may  abuse  a  tragedy,  though  you  cannot  write  one.  You  may 
scold  a  carpenter  who  has  made  you  a  bad  table,  though  you  cannot 
make  a  table.     It  is  not  your  trade  to  make  tables." 

When  I  talked  to  him  of  the  paternal  estate  to  which  I  was  heir, 
he  said,  "  Sir,  let  me  tell  you,  that  to  be  a  Scotch  landlord,  where 
you  have  a  number  of  families  dependent  upon  you,  and  attached  to 
you,  is,  perha.ps,  as  high  a  situation  as  humanity  can  arrive  at.  A 
merchant  upon  the  'Change  of  London,  with  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds,  is  nothing  ;  an  English  Duke,  with  an  immense  fortune,  is 
nothing  :  he  has  no  tenants  who  consider  themselves  as  under  his 
patriarchal  care,  and  who  will  follow  him  to  the  field  upon  an 
emergency." 

His  notion  of  the  dignity  of  a  Scotch  landlord  had  been  formed 
upon  what  he  had  heard  of  the  Highland  chiefs  ;  for  it  is  long  since 
a  lowland  landlord  has  been  so  curtailed  in  his  feudal  authority,  that 
he  has  little  more  influence  over  his  tenants  than  an  English  land- 
lord ;  and  of  late  years  most  of  the  Highland  chiefs  have  destroyed, 
by  means  too  well  known,  the  princely  power  which  they  once 
enjoyed. 

He  proceeded  : — "  Your  going  abroad.  Sir,  and  breaking  off  idle 
habits,  may  be  of  great  importance  to  you.  I  would  go  where 
there  are  courts  and  learned  men.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  Spain 
that  has  not  been  perambulated.  I  would  have  you  go  thither.  A 
man  of  inferior  talents  to  yours  may  furnish  us  with  useful  observa- 
tions upon  that  country."  His  supposing  me,  at  that  period  of  life, 
capable  of  writing  an  account  of  my  travels  that  would  deserve  to  be 
read,  elated  me  not  a  httle. 

I  appeal  to  every  impartial  reader  whether  this  faithful  detail  of 
his  frankness,  complacency,  and  kindness  to  a  young  mau,  a 
stranger,  and  a  Scotchman,  does  not  refute  the  unjust  opinion  of 
the  harshness  of  his  general  demeanour.  His  occasional  reproofs 
of  folly,  impudence,  or  impiety,  and  even  the  sudden  sallies  of  his 
constitutional  irritability  of  temper,  which  have  been  preserved  for 
the  poignancy  of  their  wit,  have  produced  that  opinion  among 
those  who  have  not  considered  that  such  instances,  though  collected 
by  Mrs.  Piozzi  into  a  small  volume,  and  read  over  in  a  few  hours^ 


328  LIFE   OF   JOHNSOK.  i^**- 

were,  in  fact,  scattered  through  a  long  series  of  years  :  years,  in 
which  his  time  was  chiefly  spent  in  instructing  and  delighting  man- 
kind by  his  writings  and  conversation,  in  acts  of  piety  to  God,  and 
good-will  to  men. 

I  complained  to  him  that  I  had  not  yet  acquired  much  knowledge, 
and  asked  his  adyice  as  to  my  studies.  He  said,  "  Don't  talk  of 
study  now.  I  will  give  you  a  plan  ;  but  it  will  require  some  time 
to  consider  of  it."  "  It  is  very  good  in  you,"  I  replied,  "  to  allow 
me  to  be  with  you  thus.  .  Had  it  been  foretold  to  me  some  years 
ago  that  I  should  pass  an  evening  with  the  author  of  the  Rambler, 
how  should  I  have  exulted."  What  I  then  expressed,  was  sincerely 
fi-om  the  heart.  He  was  satisfied  that  it  was,  and  cordially  an- 
swered, "  Sir,  I  am  glad  we  have  met,  I  hope  we  shall  pass  many 
evenings,  and  mornings  too,  together."  We  finished  a  couple  of 
bottles  of  port^  and  sat  till  between  one  and  two  in  the  morning. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
1763. 

•rtham's  "  Telemachus,  a  Mask  "—Dr.  Oliver  Goldsmith — Dr.  John  Campbell — "  Hormlppui 
Redivivus  "—Churchill's  Poetry— Bonnell  Thornton—"  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day"— The  Con- 
noisseur— The  World— Miss  AVilliams's  Tea  Parties — Anecdotes  of  Goldsmith. 

He  wrote  this  year  in  the  Critical  Review  the  account  of 
"Telemachus,  a  Mask,"  by  the  Rev.  George  Graham,  of  Eaton 
College.  The  subject  of  this  beautiful  poem  was  particularly  inte- 
resting to  Johnson,  who  had  much  experience  of  "  the  conflict  of 
opposite  principles,"  which  he  describes  as  "  The  contention  be- 
tween pleasure  and  virtue  ;  a  struggle  which  will  always  be  con- 
tinued while  the  present  system  of  nature  shall  subsist ;  nor  can 
history  or  poetry  exhibit  more  than  pleasure  triumphing  over  virtue, 
and  virtue  subjugating  pleasure." 

As  Dr.  Oliver  Goldsmith  will  frequently  appear  in  this  narrative, 
I  shall  endeavour  to  make  my  readers  in  some  degree  acquainted 
with  his  singular  character.  He  was  a  native  of  Ireland,  and  a 
contemporary  with  Mr.  Burke,  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  but  did 
not  then  give  much  promise  of  future  celebrity.*  He,  however,  ob- 
served to  Mr.  Malone,  that  "  though  he  made  no  great  figure  in 
mathematics,  which  was  a  study  in  much  repute  there,  he  could  turn 
an  ode  of  Horace  into  English  better  than  any  of  them."  He  after 
wards  studied  physic  at  Edinburgh,  and  upon  the  Continent  ;  and, 
I  have  been  informed,  was  enabled  to  pursue  his  travels  on  foot, 
partly  by  demanding  at  universities  to  enter  the  lists  as  a  disputant, 
by  which,  according  to  the  custom  of  many  of  them,  he  was  entitled 
to  the  premium  of  a  crown,  when  luckily  for  him  his  challenge  was 
not  accepted  ;  so  that,  as  I  once  observed  to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  dis- 
puted his  passage  through  Europe.     He  then  came  to  England,  and 

^  Goldsmith  got  a  premium  at  a  Christmas  examination  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  wliicb  I 
tave  seen. — Kearnet. 

829 


^^30  LtFE   OF  JOHNSON.  ♦  ^^68, 

was  employed  successively  iu  the  capacities  of  an  usher  to  an 
academy,  a  corrector  of  the  press,  a  reviewer,  aud  a  writer  for  a 
newspaper.  He  had  sagacity  enough  to  cultivate  assiduoulsy  the 
acquaintance  of  Johnson,  and  his  faculties  were  gradually  enlarged 
by  the  contemplation  of  such  a  model.  To  me  and  many  others  it 
appeared  that  he  studiously  copied  the  manner  of  Johnson,  though, 
indeed,  upon  a  smaller  scale. 

At  this  time  I  think  he  had  published  nothing  with  his  name, 
though  it  was  pretty  generally  known  that  otic  Dr.  Goldsmith  was 
the  author  of  "  An  Inquiry  into  the  present  State  of  Polite  Learn- 
ing in  Europe,"  and  of  "  The  Citizen  of  the  World,"  a  series  of 
letters  supposed  to  be  written  from  London  by  a  Chinese.'  No 
man  had  the  art  of  displaying  with  more  advantage  as  a  writer, 
whatever  literary  acquisitions  he  made.  "  JVihil  q^wd  tetigit  non  or- 
navitP  *  Ills  mind  resembled  a  fertile,  but  thin  soil.  There  was  a 
quick,  but  not  a  strong  vegetation,  of  whatever  chanced  to  be 
thrown  upon  it.  No  deep  root  could  be  struck.  The  oak  of  the 
forest  did  not  grow  there  ;  but  the  elegant  shrubbery  and  the  fra- 
grant parterre  appeared  in  gay  succession.  It  has  been  generally 
circulated  and  believed  that  he  was  a  mere  fool  in  conversation  ; '  but, 
in  truth,  this  has  been  greatly  exaggerated.  He  had,  no  doubt,  a 
more  than  common  share  of  that  hurry  of  ideas  which  we  often  find 
in  his  countrymen,  and  which  sometimes  produces  a  laughable  con- 
fusion in  expressing  them.  He  was  very  much  what  the  French  call 
un  etourdi ;  and  from  vanity  and  an  eager  desire  of  being  conspicu* 
ous  wherever  he  was,  he  frequently  talked  carelessly  without  know- 

1  He  had  also  published  in  1750,  "  The  Bee ;  being,  Essays  on  the  most  interesting  Sub- 
jects."— M. 

-  Seehis  Epitaph  in  Westminster  Abbey,  written  by  Dr.  Johnson. 

^  In  allusion  to  this,  Mr.   Horace  Walpole,  who  admired  his  writings,  said  he  was  "  an 
inspired  idiot ;"  and  Garrick  described  him  as  one 

"  for  shortness  call'd  Noll, 

Who  wrote  like  an  angel,  and  talk'd  like  poor  Poll." 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  mentioned  to  me,  that  he  frequently  heard  Goldsmith  talk  warmly  of  the 
pleasure  of  being  liked,  and  observed  how  hard  it  would  be  if  literary  excellence  should  pre- 
clude a  man  from  that  satisfaction,  which  he  perceived  it  often  did,  from  the  envy  which 
attended  it ;  and  therefore  Sir  Joshua  was  convinced  that  he  was  intentionally  more  absurd, 
In  order  to  lessen  himself  in  social  intercourse,  trusting  that  his  character  would  be  sufficiently 
supported  by  his  works.  If  it  indeed  was  his  intention  to  appear  absurd  in  company,  he  was 
often  very  successful.  But,  with  due  deference  to  Sir  Joshua's  ingenuity,  I  think  the  coaje<s- 
\ure  too  refined 


■^^■•'''■^^  GOLDSMITH.  331 

ledge  of  the  subject,  or  even  without  thought.  His  person  waa 
short,  his  countenance  coarse  and  vulgar,  his  deportment  that  of  a 
scholar  awkwardly  affecting  the  easy  gentleman.  Those  who  were 
in  any  way  distinguished,  excited  envy  in  him  to  so  ridiculous  an 
excess,  tltat  the  instances  of  it  are  hardly  credible.  When  accom- 
panying two  beautiful  young  ladies '  with  their  mother  on  a  toui 
in  France,  he  was  seriously  angry  that  more  attention  was  paid  to 
them  than  to  him  ;  and  once,  at  the  exhibition  of  the  Fantocdni  in 
London,  when  those  who  sat  next  to  him  observed  with  what  dex- 
terity a  puppet  was  made  to  toss  a  pike,  he  could  not  bear  that  it 
should  have  such  praise,  and  exclaimed  with  some  warmth,  "  Pshaw  I 
I  can  do  it  better  myself." ' 

He,  I  am  afraid,  had  no  settled  system  of  any  sort,  so  that  his 
conduct  must  not  be  strictly  scrutinised  ;  but  his  affections  were 
social  and  generous,  and  when  he  had  money  he  gave  it  away  very 
liberally.  His  desire  of  imaginary  consequence  predominated  over 
his  attention  to  truth.  When  lie  began  to  rise  into  notice  he  said 
he  had  a  brother  who  was  Dean  of  Durham  f  a  fiction  so  easily 
detected,  that  it  is  wonderful  how  he  should  have  been  so  inconsid- 
erate as  to  hazard  it.  He  boasted  to  me  at  this  time  of  the  power 
of  his  pen  in  commamling  money,  which  I  believe  was  true  in  a  cer- 
tain degree,  though  in  tlie  instance  he  gave  he  was  by  no  means 
correct.  He  told  me*  that  he  had  sold  a  novel  for  four  hundred 
pounds.  This  was  his  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  But  Johnson  in- 
tormed  me,  that  he  had  made  the  bargain  for  Goldsmith,  and  the 
price  was  sixty  pounds.  "  And,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  a  sufficient  price 
too,  when  it  was  sold  ;  for  then  the  fame  of  Goldsmith  had  not 
been  elevated,  as  it  afterwards  was,  by  his  '  Traveller  ;'  and  the 
bookseller  had  such  faint  hopes  of  profit  by  his  bargain,  that  he 
kcjt  the  manuscript  by  hinr  a  long  time,  and  did  not  publish  it  till 
after  the  '  Traveller  '  had  appeared.  Then,  to  be  sure,  it  was  acci- 
dently  worth  more  money." 

Mrs.  Piozzi  and    Sir  John    Hawkins   have  strangely  mis-stated 

'  Miss  Hornecks,  one  of  whum  is  now  married  to  Henry  Bunbury,  Esq.,  and  the  otlier  to 
Colonel  Gwyn. 

2  He  went  home  with  Mr.  Burke  to  supper  ;  and  broke  his  shin  by  attempting  to  exliibit  to 
iihe  company  how  inucli  better  he  could  jump  over  a  stick  than  the  puppets. 

^  I  am  willingto  hope  that  there  may  have  been  some  mistake  as  to  this  .anecdote,  though  i  I  adit 
from  a  dignitary  of  the  cluircli.  Dr.  Isaac  Goldsmith,  his  near  relation,  was  Dean  of  Ch^yne  in  IT47 


332  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  -"^ 

the  history  of  Goldsmith's  situation  and  Johnson's  I'riendly  inter* 
ference,  when  this  novel  was  sold.*  I  shall  give  it  authentically  from 
Johnson's  own'  exact  narr-ation  : — 

"  I  received  one  morning  a  message  from  poor  Goldsmith  that  he 
was  in  great  distress,  and,  as  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  come  to  me, 
begging  that  1  would  come  to  him  as  soon  as  possible.  I  sent  him 
a  guinea,  and  promised  to  come  to  him  directly.  I  accordingly 
went  as  soon  as  I  was  dressed,  and  found  that  his  landlady  had 
arrested  him  for  his  rent,  at  which  he  was  in  a  violent  passion.  I 
perceived  that  he  had  already  changed  my  guinea,  and  had  got  a 
bottle  of  Madeira  and  a  glass  before  him.  I  put  the  cork  into  the 
bottle,  desired  he  would  be  calm,  and  began  to  talk  to  him  of  the 
means  l^y  which  he  might  be  extricated.  He  then  told  me  that  he 
had  a  novel  ready  for  the  press,  which  he  produced  to  me.  I  looked 
into  it,  and  saw  its  merit ;  told  the  landlady  I  should  soon  return  ; 
and,  having  gone  to  a  bookseller,  sold  it  for  sixty  pounds,  I 
brought  Goldsmith  the  money,  and  he  discharged  his  rent,  not 
without  rating  his  landlady  in  a  high  tone  for  having  used  him  so  ill."  ^ 

1  How  Mr.  Boswell,  who  affects  such  extreme  accuracy,  should  say  that  Hawkins  haa 
Btrangely  mis-stated  this  affair  is  very  surprising ;  what  Hawkins  says  (Life,  p.  420),  is  merely 
that,  under  a  pressing  necessity,  he  wrote  the  Vicar  of  Waliefield,  and  sold  it  to  Newberry  for 
£40.  Hawkins's  account  is  not  in  any  respect  inconsistent  with  Boswell's ;  and  the  difference 
between  the  prices  stated,  even  if  Hawkins  be  in  error,  is  surely  not  sufficient  to  justify  the 
charge  of  a  strange  mis-statement. — C. 

'^  It  may  not  be  improper  to  annex  here  Mrs.  Piozzi's  account  of  this  transaction,  in  her 
own  words,  as  a  specimen  of  the  extreme  inaccuracy  with  which  all  her  anecdotes  of  Dr.  John- 
son are  related,  or  rather  discoloured  and  distorted : 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  year,  but  it  could  scarcely,  I  think,  be  later  than  1765  or  1766,  that 
he  was  called  abruptly  from  otir  hoime  after  dinner,  and,  returning  m  about  three  hours, 
said  he  had  been  with  an  caraged  author,  whose  landlady  pressed  him  for  payment  within 
doors,  while  the  bailiffs  beset  him  without;  that  he  was  drinking  himself  drunk  with 
Madeira,  to  drown  care,  and  fretting  over  a  novel  which,  when  Jinished,  was  to  be  his  lohole 
fortune  ;  but  he  could  not  get  it  done  for  distraction,  nor  could  he  step  out  of  doors  to  offer 
it  for  sale.  Mr.  Johnson,  therefore,  sent  away  the  bottle,  and  went  to  the  bookseller, 
recommending  the  performance,  and  desiring  some  immediate  relief;  which,  when  he 
brought  back  to  the  writer,  he  called  the  woman  of  the  house  directly  to  partake  of  punch, 
and  pass  their  time  in  tnerriment."    Anecdotes,  p.  119. — Boswell. 

The  greatest  discrepancy  between  the  two  stories  is  the  time  of  the  day  at  which  it  hap- 
pened ;  and,  unluckily,  the  admitted  fact  of  the  bottle  of  Madeira  seems  to  render  Mrs. 
Piozzi's  version  the  more  probable  of  the  two.  If,  according  to  Mr.  Boswell's  account.  Gold- 
smith had,  in  the  morning,  changed  Johnson's  charitable  guinea  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a 
bottle  of  Madeira,  we  cannot  complain  that  Mrs.  Piozzi  represents  him  as  "  drinking  himself 
drunk  icith  Madeira  ;"  which  Mr.  Boswell  thinks  so  violet  tly  inaccurate,  as  to  deserve  being 
marked  in  italics. — Crokeb. 


SirxT.U.  t)R,    JOHN    CAMPBELL.  333 

My  next  meeting  with  Johnson  was  on  Friday,  the  1st  of  July, 
when  he  and  I  and  Dr.  Goldsmith  supped  at  the  Mitre.  I  was 
before  this  time  pretty  well  acquainted  with  Goldsmith,  who  was 
one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  Johnsonian  school.  Gold- 
smith's respectful  attachment  to  Johnson  was  then  at  its  height  ; 
for  his  own  literary  reputation  had  not  yet  distinguished  him  so 
much  as  to  excite  a  vain  desire  of  competition  with  his  great  mas- 
ter. He  had  increased  my  admiration  of  the  goodness  of  Johnson's 
heart,  by  incidental  remarks  in  the  course  of  conversation  ;  such  as, 
when  I  mentioned  Mr.  Levet,  whom  he  entertained  under  his  roof, 
"  He  is  poor  and  honest,  which  is  recommendation  enough  to  John- 
son ;"  and  when  I  wondered  that  he  was  very  kind  to  a  man  of 
whom  I  had  heard  a  very  bad  character,  "  He  is  now  become  misera- 
ble, and  that  insures  the  protection  of  Johnson." 

Goldsmith  attempting  this  evening  to  maintain,  I  suppose  from  an 
affectation  of  paradox,  "  that  knowledge  was  not  desirable  on  its 
own  account,  for  it  often  was  a  source  of  unhappiness."  Johnson. 
"  Why,  sir,  that  knowledge  may  in  some  cases  produce  unhappiness, 
I  allow.  But,  upon  the  whole,  knowledge,  per  se,  is  certainly  an 
object  which  every  man  would  wish  to  attain,  although,  perhaps,  he 
may  not  take  the  trouble  necessary  for  attaining  it." 

Dr.  John  Campbell,  the  celebrated  political  and  biographical 
writer,  being  mentioned,  Johnson  said,  "  Campbell  is  a  man  of  much 
knowledge,  and  has  a  good  share  of  imagination.  His  '  Hermippus 
Redivivus'  is  very  entertaining,  as  an  account  of  the  Hermetic  phi- 
losophy, and  as  furnishing  a  curious  history  of  the  extravagancies  of 
the  human  mind.  If  it  were  merely  imaginary,  it  would  be  nothing 
at  all.  Campbell  is  not  always  rigidly  careful  of  truth  in  his  con- 
yersation  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  there  is  anything  of  this  careless- 
ness in  his  books.  Campbell  is  a  good  man,  a  pious  man.  I  am 
afraid  he  has  not  been  in  the  inside  of  a  church  for  many  years  ; ' 

'  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  was  misinformed  as  to  this  circumstance.  I  own  I  am  jea 
lous  for  my  worthy  friend  Dr.  John  Campbell.  For  though  Milton  could  without  remorsi. 
absent  himself  from  public  worship,  I  cannot.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  the  same  habitual 
Impressions  upon  my  mind,  with  those  of  a  truly  venerable  judge,  who  said  to  Mr.  Langtou, 
"  Friend  Langton,  if  I  have  not  been  at  church  on  Sunday,  I  do  not  feel  myself  easy."  Dr 
Campbell  was  a  sincerely  religious  man.  Lord  Macartney,  who  is  eminent  for  his  variety  of 
Knowledge,  and  attention  to  men  of  talents,  and  knew  him  well,  told  me,  that  when  he  called 
on  him  in  a  morning,  he  found  liim  reading  a  chapter  in  the  Greek  New  Testament,  which  he 


334  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


i« 


but  be  never  passes  a  church  without  pulling  oif  his  hat.  This 
shows  that  he  has  good  principles.  I  used  to  go  pretty  often  to 
Campbell's  on  a  Sunday  evening,  till  I  began  to  consider  that  the 
shoals  of  Scotchmen  who  flocked  about  him  might  probably  say, 
when  anything  of  mine  was  well  done,  '  Ay,  ay,  he  has  learnt  this 
of  Cawmell  !' " 

He  talked  very  contemptuously  of  Churchill's  poetry,  observing 
that  "  it  Had  a  temporary  currency,  only  from  its  audacity  of  abuse> 
and  being  filled  with  hving  names,  and  that  it  would  sink  into 
oblivion."  I  ventured  to  hint  that  he  was  not  quite  a  fair  judge,  as 
Churchill  had  attacked  him  violently,  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  I  am  a 
very  fair  judge.  He  did  not  attack  me  violently  till  he  found  I  did 
not  like  his  poetry  ;  and  his  attack  on  me  shall  not  prevent  me  from 
continuing  to  say  what  I  think  of  him,  from  an  apprehension  that  it 
m  IV  be  ascribed  to  resentment.  No,  Sir,  I  called  the  fellow  a  block- 
head at  first,  and  I  will  call  him  a  blockhead  still.  However, 
I  will  acknowledge  that  I  have  a  better  opinion  of  him  now  than  1 
once  had  ;  for  he  has  shown  more  fertility  than  I  expected.  To  be 
sure,  he  is  a  tree  that  cannot  produce  good  fruit  :  he  only  bears 
crabs.  But,  Sir,  a  tree  that  produces  a  great  many  crabs  is  better 
tlian  a  tree  which  producesonly  a  few." 

In  this  depreciation  of  Churchill's  poetry  I  could  not  agree  with 
him.  It  is  very  true  that  the  greatest  part  of  it  is  upon  the  topics 
of  the  day,  on  which  account,  as  it  brought  him  great  fame  and  pro- 
fit at  The  time,  it  must  proportionably  slide  out  of  the  public  atten- 
tion as  other  occasional  objects  succeed.  But  Churchill  had  extra- 
ordinary vigour  both  of  thought  and  expression.  His  portraits  of 
tlie  players  will  ever  be  va;luable  to  the  true  lovers  of  the  drama  ; 
and  his  strong  caricatures  of  several  eminent  men  of  his  age,  will 
not  be  forgotten  by  the  curious.  Let  me  add,  that  there  are  in  his 
works  many  passages  which  are  of  a  general  nature  ;  and  his  "  Pro- 
phecy of  Famine  "  is  a  poem  of  no  ordinary  merit.  It  is,  indeed, 
falsely  injurTous  to  Scotland  ;  but,  therefore,  may  be  allowed  a 
greater  share  of  invention. 

informed  his  lordsliip  was  his  constant  practice.  The  quantity  of  Dr.  Campbell's  compositiou 
is  almost  incredible,  and  his  laboura  brought  Iiim  large  profits.  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  told  me 
that  Johnson  said  of  him,  "  He  is  the  richest  autlior  that  ever  grazed  the  common  of  Iit& 
rature."-  -  B. 


^^AT.  64.  CHURCUILl's    fOETUY.  3o5 

Bonnell  Thorutou  bad  just  published  a  burlesque  "  Ode  ou  St. 
Cecilia's  Day,"  adapted  to  the  ancient  British  music,  viz.  :  the  salt- 
box,  the  Jew's-harp,  the  marrow-bones  and  cleaver,  the  hnm-strum 
or  hurdy-gurdy,  &c.  Johnson  praised  its  humour,  and  seemed  much 
diverted  with  it.     He  repeated  the  following  passage  : 

"  In  strains  more  exalted  the  salt-box  shall  join, 
And  clattering  and  battering  and  clapping  corabiue ; 
With  a  rap  and  a  tap,  while  the  hollow  side  sounds, 
Up  and  down  leaps  the  flap,  and  with  rattling  rebounds." ' 

I  mentioned  the  periodical  paper  called  "  The  Connoisseur." 
He  said  it  wanted  matter.  No  doubt  it  had  not  the  deep  thinking 
of  Johnson's  writings  ;  but  surely  it  has  just  views  of  the  surface  of 
life,  and  a  very  sprightly  manner.  His  opinion  of  the  "  The  World  " 
was  not  much  higher  than  of  the  Connoisseur. 

Let  me  here  apologise  for  the  imperfect  manner  in  which  I  am 
obliged  to  exhibit  Johnson's  conversation  at  this  period.  In  the 
early  part  of  my  acquaintance  with  him,  I  was  so  wrapt  in  admira- 
tion of  his  extraordinary  colloquial  talents,  and  so  httle  accustomed 
to  his  peculiar  mode  of  expression,  that  I  found  it  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  recollect  and  record  his  conversation  with  its  genuine  vigour 
and  vivacity.  In  progress  of  time,  when  my  mind  was,  as  it  were, 
strongly  impregnated  with  the  Johnsonian  aether,  I  could,  with  much 
more  facility  and  exactness,  carry  in  my  memory  and  commit  to 
paper  the  exuberant  variety  of  his  wisdom  aud  wit. 

At  this  time  Miss  Williams,  as  she  was  then  called,  though  she 
did  not  reside  with  him  in  the  Temple  under  his  roof,  but  had  lodg- 
ings in  Bolt-court,  Fleet-street,  had  so  much  of  his  attention,  that 
he  every  night  drank  tea  with  her  before  he  went  home,  however 
late  it  might  be,  and  she  always  sat  up  for  him.  This,  it  may  be 
fairly  conjectured,  was  not  alone  a  proof  of  his  regard  for  her  ;  but 

In  1769  I  set  for  Smart  and  Newbery,  Thornton's  burlesque  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  day.  It 
was  performed  at  Kanelagh  in  masks,  to  a  very  crowded  audience,  as  I  was  told  ;  for  I  then 
resided  in  Norfolk.  Beard  sang  the  salt-box  song,  which  was  admirably  accompanied  on 
that  instrument  by  Brent,  the  fencing-master  and  father  of  Miss  Brent,  the  celebrated  sineer; 
Skeggs  on  the  broomstick,  as  bassoon ;  and  a  remarkable  performer  on  the  Jew's  harp." — 
"Buzzing  twangs  the  iron  lyre."  Cleavers  were  cast  in  bell  metal  for  this  entertainment.  All 
the  performers  of  the  old  woman's  Oratory,  employed  by  Foote,  were,  I  believe,  employed  »1 
Ranelagh,  on  this  occasion. — Burnet. 


336  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

of  his  own  unwilliugness  to  go  into  solitude,  before  that  unseasona- 
ble hour  at  which  he  had  habituated  himself  to  expect  the  oblivion 
of  repose.  Dr.  Goldsmith,  being  a  privileged  man,  went  with  him 
this  night,  strutting  away,  and  calling  to  me  with  an  air  of  supe- 
riority, like  that  of  an  esoteric  over  an  exoteric  disciple  of  a  sage 
of  antiquity,  "I  go  to  Miss  Williams."  I  confess,  I  then  envied 
him  this  mighty  privilege,  of  which  he  seemed  so  proud  ;  but  it  was 
not  long  before  I  obtained  the  same  mark  of  distinction.' 

'  Goldsmith  affected  Johnston's  style  and  manner  of  lonversation;  and,  when  he  had 
uttered,  as  he  often  would,  a  laboured  sentence,  so  tumid  as  to  be  scarce  intelligible,  would 
ask,  if  that  was  not  truly  Johnsonian  ;  yet  he  loved  not  Johnson,  but  rather  envied  him  for 
hii  parts ;  and  once  entreated  a  friend  to  desist  from  praising  him  ;  "  for  in  doing  so,"  said 
hfl,  "  you  harrow  up  my  very  soul."  He  had  some  wit,  but  no  humour,  and  never  told  a  storj 
Hut  be  spoiled  U. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
It63 

London — ^Miss  Porter's  Legacy — Boswell  and  his  Landlord — Suppers  at  the  Mitre — "  The  KlDf 
can  do  no  Wrong" — Historical  Composition — Bayle — Arbuthnot — The  noblest  Prospect  to 
Scotland — Jacibitism — Lord  Hailes — Keeping  a  Journal — The  King  of  Prussia's  Poetry- 
Johnson's  Library — "Not  at  Home  " — Pity — Style  of  Hume — Inetiuality  of  Mankind-- 
Constitutional  Goodness — Miracles — Acquaintance  of  Young  People — Hard  Heading — Mel- 
ancholy— Mrs.  Macaulay — Warton's  Essay  o.i  Pope — Sir  James  Macdonald — Projected 
Tour  to  the  Hebrides — School-boy  Happiness. 

On  Tuesday  the  5th  of  July,  I  again  visited  Johnson.  He  told  nie 
he  had  looked  into  the  poems  of  a  pretty  voluminous  writer,  Mr.  (now 
Dr.)  John  Ogilvie,  one  of  the  Presbyterian  ministers  of  Scotland, 
which  had  lately  come  out,  but  could  find  nothing  in  them.  Bos 
WELL.  "  Is  there  not  imagination  in  them.  Sir  ?"  Johnson.  "  AVhy, 
Sir,  there  is  in  them,  what  was  imagination,  but  it  is  no  more  imagi- 
nation in  him,  than  sound  is  sound  in  the  echo.  And  his  diction, 
too,  is  not  his  own.  We  have  long  ago  seen  white-robed  innocence, 
and  Jlower-bespangled  meads." 

Talking  of  London,  he  observed,  "  Sir,  if  you  wish  to  have  a  just 
notion  of  the  magnitude  of  this  city,  you  must  not  be  satisfied  with 
seeing  its  great  streets  and  squares,  but  must  survey  the  innumerable 
little  lanes  and  courts.  It  is  not  in  the  showy  evolutions  of  buildings, 
but  in  the  multiplicity  of  human  habitations  which  are  crowded  to- 
gether, that  the  wonderful  immensity  of  London  consists."  I  have  of- 
ten amused  myself  with  thinking  how  diifereut  a  place  London  is  to 
different  people.  Tliey,  whose  narrow  minds  are  contracted  to  the 
consideration  of  some  one  particular  pursuit,  view  it  only  through  that 
medium.  A  politician  thinks  of  it  merely  as  the  seat  of  government 
in  its  different  departments  ;  a  grazier,  as  a  vast  market  for  cattle  , 
a  mercantile  man,  as  a  place  where  a  prodigious  deal  of  business  is 
done  upon  'Change  ;  a  dramatic  enthusiast,  as  the  grand  scene  of 
theatrical  entertainments  ;  a  man  of  pleasure,  as  an  assemblage  ol 

YOU  L  15  9Si1 


338  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

taverns,  and  the  great  emporium  for  ladies  of  easy  virtue,  But  the  in 
tellectual  man  is  struck  with  it,  as  comprehending  the  whole  of  human 
life  in  all  its  variety,  the  contemplation  of  which  is  inexhaustible. 

Letter  85.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER. 

'•  July  5,  1763. 

"  My  Dearest  Dear, — I  am  extremely  glad  that  so  much  prudence  and  vir- 
tue as  yours  is  at  last  awarded  with  so  la^ge  a  ibrtune,'  and  doubt  not  but  thai 
me  excellence  which  you  have  shown  in  circumstances  of  difficulty  will  con- 
tinue the  same  in  the  convenience  of  wealth. 

"  I  have  not  written  to  you  sooner,  having  nothing  to  say,  which  you  would 
not  easily  suppose — nothing  but  that  I  love  you  and  wish  you  happy,  of  which 
you  may  be  always  assured,  whether  I  write  or  not. 

"  I  have  had  an  inflammation  in  my  eyes ;  but  it  is  much  better,  and  will  be, 
I  hope,  soon  quite  well. 

''  Be  so  good  as  to  let  me  know  whether  you  design  to  stay  at  Lichfield  this 
summer  ;  if  you  do,  I  purpose  to  come  down.  I  shall  bring  Frank  with  me  ; 
80  that  Kitty  must  contrive  to  make  two  beds,  or  get  a  servant's  bed  at  the 
Three  Crowns,  which  may  be  as  well.  As  I  suppose  she  may  want  sheets  and 
table-lineu,  and  such  things,  I  have  sent  ten  pounds,  which  she  may  lay  out  in 
conveniences.  1  will  pay  her  for  her  board  what  you  think  proper;  .1  think  a 
guinea,  a  week  for  me  and  the  boy. 

"  Be  pleased  to  give  my  love  to  Kitty.  I  am,  my  dearest  love,  your  most 
humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  Wednesday,  July  6,  he  was  engaged  to  sup  with  me  at  my 
lodgings  in  Downing-street,  V/estminster.  But  on  the  preceding 
•night  ray  landlord  having  behaved  very  rudely  to  me  and  some  com- 
pany who  were  with  me,  I  had  resolved  not  to  remain  another  night 
in  his  house.  I  was  exceedingly  uneasy  at  the  awkward  appearance 
I  supposed  I  should  make  to  Johnson  and  the  other  gentlemen  whom 
I  had  invited,  not  being  able  to  receive  them  at  home,  and  being 
obliged  to  order  supper  at  the  Mitre.  I  went  to  Johnson  in  the 
morning,  and  talked  of  it  as  of  a  serious  distress.  He  laughed,  and 
said,  "  Consider,  Sir,  how  insignificant  this  will  appear  a  twelve- 
•v'Uth  hence."  Were  this  consideration  to  be  applied  to  most  of 
uiC  little  vexatious  incidents  of  life,  by  which  our  quiet  is  too  often 

#  Porter  had  .just  received  a  legacy  of  ten  thousand  poi"wls,  by  the  death  of  Iier  br«» 
♦ucr.    -C. 


^'^^'^'-  ^-  "  THE    KING    CAN    DO    NO    VYRCNG."  '6)i'i 

disturbed,  it  would  prevent  many  painful  sensations.  I  have  tried 
it  frequently  with  good  effect.  "  There  is  nothing,"  continued  lie, 
"  in  this  mighty  misfortune  ;  nay,  we  shall  be  better  at  the  Mitre." 
I  told  him  that  I  had  been  at  Sir  John  Fielding's  ofSce,  complaining 
of  my  landlord,  and  had  been  informed  that,  though  I  had  taken 
my  lodgings  for  a  year,  I  might,  upon  proof  of  his  bad  behaviour 
quit  them  when  I  pleased,  without  being  under  an  obligation  to  pay 
rent  for  any  longer  time  than  while  I  possessed  them.  The  fertility 
of  Johnson's  mind  could  show  itself  even  upon  so  small  a  matter  as 
this.  "  Why,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose  this  must  be  the  law,  since 
you  have  been  told  so  in  Bow-street.  But,  if  your  landlord  could 
hold  you  to  your  bargain,  and  the  lodgings  should  be  yours  for  a 
year,  you  may  certainly  use  them  as  you  think  fit.  So,  Sir,  you  may 
quarter  two  life-guardmen  upon  him  ;  or  you  may  send  the  greatest 
scoundrel  you  can  find  into  your  apartments  ;  or  you  may  say  that 
you  want  to  make  some  experiments  in  natural  philosophy,  and  may 
burn  a  large  quantity  of  assafcetida  in  his  house." 

I  had  as  my  guests  this  evening  at  the  Mitre  tavern,  Dr.  Johnson, 
Dr.  Goldsmith,  Mr.  Thomas  Davies,  Mr.  Eccles,  an  Irish  gentleman, 
for  whose  agreeal)le  company  I  was  obliged  to  Mr.  Davies,  and  the 
Rev.  Mr.  John  Ogilvie,'  who  was  desirous  of  being  in  company  with 
my  illustrious  friend,  while  I,  in  my  turn,  was  proud  to  have  the 
honour  of  showing  one  of  my  countrymen  upon  what  easy  terms 
Johnson  permitted  me  to  live  with  him. 

(Joldsmith,  as  usual,  endeavoured  with  too  much  eagerness  to 
slimr,  and  disputed  very  warmly  with  Johnson  against  the  well- 
known  maxim  of  the  British  Constitution,  "  the  king  can  do  no 
wrong  ;"  affirming,  that  "  what  was  morally  false  could  not  be  politi- 
cally true  ;  and  as  the  king  might,  in  the  exercise  of  his  regal 
power,  command  and  cause  the  doing  of  what  was  wrong,  it  cer- 
tainly might  be  said,  in  sense  and  in  reason,  that  he  could  do 
wrong."     Johnson.     "Sir,  you  are  to  consider,  that  in  our  constitu 

>  The  northern  bard  mentioned  page  337.  When  I  asked  Dr.  Johnson's  permission  to  intro- 
duce him,  be  ohlij-'ingly  agreed;  adding,  however,  with  a  sly  pleasantry,  "but  he  must  give 
us  none  of  his  poetry."  It  is  rcDiarlcahle  that  .lohnson  and  Churchill,  however  nuicli  they 
f'ilVered  in  otlier  points,  agreed  on  this  subject.  See  Churcliill's  "  Journey."  It  is,  however 
>)iit  justice  tol)r.  Ogilvie  to  observe,  that  his  "  Day  of  Judgment"  has  no  inconsi(ieraHe  share 
ff  mer;t.— B. 


IttI 

340  LIfE    OF   JOHNSON.  ' 

tion,  according  to  its  true  principles,  the  king  is  the  head,  he  is 
eupreme  ;  he  is  above  everything,  and  there  is  no  power  by  which  he 
can  be  tried.  Therefore  it  is,  Sir,  that  we  hold  the  king  can  do  no 
wrong  ;  that  whatever  may  happen  to  be  wrong  in  government  may 
not  be  above  our  reach,  by  being  ascribed  to  Majesty.  Redress  is 
always  to  be  had  against  oppression,  by  punishing  the  immediate 
agents.  The  king,  though  he  should  command,  cannot  force  a  judge 
to  condemn  a  man  unjustly  ;  therefore  it  is  the  judge  whom  we  pro- 
secute and  punish.  Political  institutions  are  formed  upon  the  con- 
sideration of  what  will  most  frequently  teud  to  the  good  of  the 
whole,  although  now  and  then  exceptions  may  occur.  Thus  it  is 
better  in  general  that  a  nation  should  have  a  supreme  legislative 
power,  although  it  may  at  times  be  abused.  And  then.  Sir,  there  is 
this  consideration,  that  if  the  abuse  he  enormous,  Nature  will  rise  up  ; 
and,  claiming  her  original  rights,  overturn  a  corrupt  political  system.^'' 
I  mark  this  animated  sentence  with  peculiar  pleasure,  as  a  noble  in- 
stance of  that  truly  dignified  spirit  of  freedom  which  ever  glowed 
in  his  heart,  though  he  was  charged  with  slavish  tenets  by  super- 
ficial observers  ;  because  he  was  at  all  times  indignant  against  that 
false  patriotism,  that  pretended  love  of  freedom,  that  unruly  rest- 
lessness, which  is  inconsistent  with  the  stable  authority  of  any  good 
government. 

This  generous  sentiment,  which  he  uttered  with  great  fervour, 
struck  me  exceedingly,  and  stirred  my  blood  to  that  pitch  of  fancied 
resistance,  the  possibility  of  which  I  am  glad  to  keep  in  mind,  but  to 
which  I  trust  I  never  shall  be  forced. 

"  Great  abilities,"  said  he,  "are  not  requisite  for  an  historian  ; 
for  in  historical  composition  all  the  greatest  powers  of  the  human 
mind  are  quiescent.  He  has  facts  ready  to  his  hand  ;  so  there  is  no 
exercise  of  invention.  Imagination  is  not  required  in  any  high 
degree  ;  only  about  as  much  as  is  used  in  the  lower  kinds  of  poetry. 
Some  penetration,  accuracy,  and  colouring,  will  fit  a  man  for  the 
task,  if  he  can  give  the  application  which  is  necessary." 

"  Bayle's  Dictionary  is  a  very  useful  work  for  those  to  consult 
who  love  the  biographical  part  of  literature,  which  is  what  I  loye 
most." 

Talking  of  the  eminent  writers  in  Queen  Anne's  reign,  he  ob- 


Mixt.SL  THE   lilTRfi.  oi\ 

served,  "  I  think  Dr.  Arbuthnot  the  first  man  among  them.  He 
was  the  most  universal  genius,  being  an  excellent  physician,  a  man 
of  deep  learning,  and  a  man  of  much  humour.  Mr.  Addison  was, 
to  be  sure,  a  great  man  :  his  learning  was  not  profound  ;  but  his 
morality,  his  humour,  and  his  elegance  of  writing,  set  him  very  high." 

Mr.  Ogilvie  was  unlucky  enough  to  choose  for  the  topic  of  his 
conversation  the  praises  of  his  native  country.  He  begau  with  say- 
ing that  there  was  very  rich  laud  around  Edinburgh.  Goldsmith, 
who  had  studied  physic  there,  contradicted  this,  very  untruly,  with  a 
Bueering  laugh.  Disconcerted  a  little  by  this,  Mr.  Ogilvie  then  took 
new  ground,  where,  I  suppose,  he  thought  himself  perfectly  safe  ; 
for  he  observed  that  Scotland  had  a  great  many  noble  wild  pros- 
pects. Johnson.  "  I  believe,  Sir,  you  have  a  great  many.  Nor- 
way, too,  has  noble  wild  prospects  ;  and  Lapland  is  remarkable  for 
prodigious  noble  wild  prospects.  But,  Sir,  let  me  tell  you  the 
noblest  prospect  which  a  Scotchman  ever  sees  is  the  high  road  that 
leads  him  to  England  !"  '  This  unexpected  and  pointed  sally  pro- 
duced a  roar  of  applause.  After  all,  however,  those  who  admire  the 
rude  grandeur  of  Nature  cannot  deny  it  to  Caledonia. 

On  Saturday,  July  9,  I  found  Johnson  surrounded  with  a  numer- 
ous levee,  but  have  not  preserved  any  part  of  his  conversation. 

Letter  86.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  June  12, 1763. 
"  My  Dearest  Love, — I  had  forgot  my  debt  to  poor  Kitty ;  pray  let  her 
have  the  note,  and  do  what  yon  can  for  her,  for  she  has  been  always  very  good, 

'  Mrs.  Brooke*  received  an  answer  not  unlike  tliis,  when  expatiating  on  the  accumulation 
of  sublime  and  beautiful  objects,  which  form  the  fine  prospect  up  tlie  Kiver  St.  Lawrence  in 
North  America :  "  Come,  madam  (says  Dr.  Johnson),  confess  that  nothing  ever  equalled  your 
pleasure  in  seeing  that  sight  reversed  ;  and  finding  yourself  looking  at  the  happy  prospect 
DOWN  tlie  river  St.  Lawrence."  The  truth  is,  he  hated  to  hear  about  prospects  and  views,  and 
laying  out  ground,  and  taste  in  gardening : — "  That  was  the  best  garden  (he  said),  which  pi-o- 
duced  most  roots  and  fruits ;  and  that  wat<r  was  most  to  be  prized  which  contained  most 
fish."  He  used  to  laugh  at  Shenstone  most  unmercifully  for  not  caring  whether  there  was  any 
thing  good  to  eat  in  the  streams  he  was  so  fond  ot  Walking  in  a  wood  when  it  rained  was,  I 
think,  the  only  rural  image  which  pleased  his  fancy.  He  loved  the  sight  of  fine  forest-trees, 
however,  and  detested  Brighthelmstone  Downs,  "because  it  was  a  country  so  truly  desolate 
(he  said),  that  if  one  had  a  mind  to  hang  one"s  self  for  desperation  at  being  obliged  to  live 
there,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  tree  on  which  to  fasten  the  rope." — Piozzi. 

*  Frances  Moore,  wife  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brooke,  Chaplain  to  the  Forces  in  Canada,  whither 
she  accompanied  him.  She  wrote  two  novels  called  "  Emily  Montague,"  and  "  Lady  Julia 
Mandeville."  She  afterwards  produced  several  dramatic  pieces,  one  of  which,  "  Kosina," 
itill  keeps  the  stage.  She  is  sai  d  to  have  been  much  esteemed  by  Johnson.  She  died 
In  1T89.— U. 


^4'-!  LIFE   OF  JOHNSON.  ^^**' 

f  will  help  her  to  a  little  more  money  if  she  wants  it,  and  will  write.     I  intend 
that  she  shall  have  the  use  of  the  hourie  as  long  as  she  and  I  live. 

"  That  there  should  not  be  room  for  me  at  the  house  is  some  disappointment 
to  me,  but  the  matter  is  not  very  great.  I  am  sorry  you  have  had  your  head 
filled  with  building,'  for  many  reasons.  It  was  not  necessary  to  settle  imme- 
diately for  life  at  any  one  place ;  you  might  have  staid  and  seen  more  of  the 
world.  You  will  not  have  your  work  done,  as  you  do  not  understand  it,  but 
ftt  twice  the  value.  You  might  have  hired  a  house  at  half  the  interest  of  the 
money  for  which  you  build  it,  if  your  house  cost  you  a  thousand  pounds.  You 
might  have  the  Palace  for  twenty  pounds,  and  make  forty  of  your  thousand 
pounds ;  so  in  twenty  years  you  would  have  saved  forty  [four  hundred  ?] 
pounds,  and  still  have  had  your  thousand.     I  am,  dear  dear,  yours,  &c., 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Oa  the  i4th,  we  bad  another  eveiiiug  by  ourselves  at  the  Mitre. 
It  happening  to  be  a  very  rainy  night,  I  made  some  common-place 
observations  on  the  relaxation  of  nerves  and  depression  of  spirits 
which  such  weather  occasioned  ; "  adding,  however,  that  it  was  good 
for  the  vegetable  creation.  Johnson,  who,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
denied  that  the  temperature  of  the  air  had  any  influence  on  the 
human  frame,  answered,  with  a  smile  of  ridicule,  "  Why,  yes,  Sir,  it 
is  good  for  vegetables,  and  for  the  animals  Who  eat  those  vegetables, 
and  for  the  animals  who  eat  those  animals."  This  observation  of 
his  aptly  enough  introduced  a  good  supper  ;  and  I  soon  forgot,  in 
Johnson's  company,  the  influence  of  a  moist  atmosphere.' 

Feeling  myself  now  quite  at  ease  as  his  companion,  though  I  had 
all  possible  reverence  for  him,  I  expressed  a  great  regret  that  I 
could  not  be  so  easy  with  my  father,  though  he  was  not  much  older 
than  Johnson,  and  certainly,  however  respectable,  had  not  more 
learning  and  greater  abilities  to  depress  me.  I  asked  him  the 
reason  of  this.  Johxson.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  am  a  man  of  the  world. 
I  live  in  the  world,  and  I  take,  in  some  degree,  the  colour  of  the 

'  Miss  Porter  laid  out  naarly  one  tliird  of  her  legacy  in  building  a  handsome  house  at 
Lichfield.— C. 

'•^  Johnson  would  suffer  none  of  his  friends  to  fill  up  chasms  in  conversaticn  with  remarks  on 
the  weather  : — "Let  us  not  talk  of  the  weather." — Burnet. 

'  Though  Dr.  Johnson  owed  his  very  life  to  air  and  exercise  given  him  when  his  organs  of 
respiration  could  scarcely  play,  in  the  year  17C6,  yet  he  ever  persisted  in  the  Tition,  that  nei- 
ther of  them  had  anything  to  do  with  health.  "  People  live  as  long,"  said  iie,  "  in  Pepper 
Alley  as  on  Salisbury  Plain ;  and  they  lived  so  much  happier,  that  an  inhabitant  of  the  firs! 
would,  if  he  turned  cottager,  starve  his  understanding  for  waat  vf  conversatiop.  and  perish  in 
a  slate  of  mental  inferiority."-   Piozzi. 


*^*f^'-  E\IDEXCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  343 

jvorld  as  it  moves  along.  Your  father  is  a  judge  in  a  remote  part 
of  the  island,  and  all  his  notions  are  taken  from  the  old  world. 
Besides.  Sir,  there  must  always  be  a  struggle  between  a  father  and 
son,  while  one  aims  at  power,  and  the  other  at  independence." 
[  said,  I  was .  afraid  my  father  would  force  me  to  be  a  lawyer. 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  his  forcing  you  to  be  a 
laborious  practising  lawyer  ;  that  is  not  in  his  power.  For,  as  the 
proverb  says,  '  One  man  may  lead  a  horse  to  the  water,  but  twenty 
I'annot  make  him  drink.'  He  may  be  displeased  that  you  are  uot 
"  what  he  wishes  you  to  be  ;  but  that  displeasure  will  not  go  far.  If 
he  insists  only  on  your  having  as  much  law  as  is  necessary  for  a  man 
of  propci'ty,  and  then  endeavours  to  get  you  into  parliament,  he  is 
quite  in  the  right." 

He  enlarged  very  convincingly  upon  th^  excellence  of  rhyme  over 
blank  verse  in  English  poetry.  I  njentioned  to  him  that  Dr.  Adam 
Smith,  in  his  lectures  upon  composition,  when  I  studied  under  him 
in  the  College  of  Glasgow,  had  maintained  the  same  opinion  strenu- 
ously, and  I  repeated  some  of  his  arguments.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  I 
was  once  in  company  with  Smith,  and  we  did  not  take  to  each 
other  ;  but  bad  I  known  that  he  loved  rhyme  as  much  as  you  tell 
me  he  does,  I  should  have  hugged  him." 

Talking  of  those  who  denied  the  truth  of  Christianity,  he  said, 
"  It  is  always  easy  to  be  on  the  negative  side.  If  a  man  were  now 
to  deny  that  there  is  salt  upon  the  table,  you  could  not  reduce  him 
to  an  absurdity.  Come,  let  us  try  this  a  little  further.  I  deny  that 
Canada  is  taken,  and  I  can  support  my  denial  by  pretty  good  argu- 
ments. The  French  are  a  much  more  numerous  people  than  we  ; 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  they  would  allow  us  to  take  it.  'But  the 
ministry  have  assured  us,  in  all  the  formality  of  the  Gazette,  that  it 
is  taken.' — Very  true.  But  the  ministry  have  put  us  to  an  enor- 
mous expense  by  the  war  in  America,  and  it  is  their  interest  to  per- 
suade us  that  we  have  got  something  for  our  money. — '  But  the  fact 
is  confirmed  by  thousands  of  men  who  were  at  the  taking  of  it.' — 
Ay,  but  these  men  have  still  more  interest  in  deceiving  us.  They 
don't  want  that  you  should  think  the  French  have  beat  them,  but 
that  they  have  beat  the  French.  Now  suppose  you  should  go  over 
e-nd  find  that  it  really  is  taken  j  that  would  only  satisfy  yourself ; 


344  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON 


1T«8. 


for  when  you  come  home  we  will  not  believe  you.  We  will  say,  you 
have  been  bribed.  Yet,  Sir,  notwithstanding  all  these  plausible  ob- 
jections,  we  have  no  doubt  that  Canada  is  really  ours.  Such  is  the 
weight  of  common  testimony.  How  much  stronger  are  the  evidences 
of  the  Christian  religion  1" 

Idleness  is  a  disease  which  must  be  combated  ;  but  I  would  not 
advise  a  rigid  adherence  to  a  particular  plan  of  study.  I  myself 
have  never  persisted  in  any  plan  for  two  days  together.  A  man 
ought  to  read  just  as  inclination  leads  him  ;  for  what  he  reads  as  a 
task  will  do  him  little  good.  A  young  man  should  read  five  hours 
in  the  day,  and  so  may  acquire  a  great  deal  of  knowledge." 

To  a  man  of  vigorous  intellect  and  ardent  curiosity  like  his  own, 
reading  without  a  regular  plan  may  be  beneficial  ;  though  even  such 
a  man  must  submit  to  it,  Jf  he  would  attain  a  full  understanding  of 
any  of  the  sciences. 

To  such  a  degree  of  unrestrained  frankness  had  he  now  accus- 
tomed me,  that  in  the  course  of  this  evening  I  talked  of  the  nu- 
merous reflections  which  hod  been  thrown  out  against  him  on 
account  of  his  having  accepted  a  pension  from  his  present  Majesty. 
"Why,  Sir,  (said  he,  with,  a  hearty  laugh,)  it  is  a  mighty  foolish 
noise  that  they  make.^  I  have  accepted  of  a  pension  as  a  reward 
which  has  been  thought  due  to  my  literary  merit  ;  and  now  that  I 
have  this  pension,  I  am  the  same  man  in  every  respect  that  I  have 
ever  been  ;  I  retain  the  same  principles.  It  is  true,  that  I  cannot 
now  curse  (smiling)  the  house  of  Hanover  ;  nor  would  it  be  decent 
for  me  to  drink  King  James's  health  in  the  wine  that  King  George 
gives  me  money  to  pay  for.  But,  Sir,  I  think  that  the  pleasure  of 
cursing  the  house  of  Hanover,  and  drinking  King  James's  health,  are 
amply  overbalanced  by  three  hundred  pounds  a  year." 

There  was  here,  most  certainly,  an  affectation  of  more  Jacobitism 
than  he  really  had  ;  and  indeed  an  intention  of  admitting,  for  the 
moment,  in  a  much  greater  extent  than  it  really  existed,  the  charge 
of  disaffection  imputed  to  him  by  the  world,  merely  fcr  the  pur- 
pose of  showing  how  dexterously  he  could  repel  an  attack,  e\en 

'  When  I  mentioned  the  same  idle  clamour  to  him  several  years  afterwards,  he  said, 
wl(h  a  smile,  "  I  wish  my  pension  were  twice  as  large,  that  they  might  malie  twice  aJ 
iDU  ch  uoise. 


*TAT.  M.  JACOBITISM.  345 

though  he  were  placed  in  the  most  disadvantageous  position  ;  for  1 
have  heard  him  declare,  that  if  holding  up  his  right  hand  would 
have  secured  victory  at  Culloden  to  Prince  Charles's  army,  he  waa 
not  sure  he  would  have  held  it  up  ;  so  little  confidence  had  he  in 
the  right  claimed  by  the  house  of  Stuart,  and  so  fearful  was  he  of 
the  consequences  of  another  revolution  on  the  throne  of  Great 
Britain  ;  and  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk  assured  me,  he  had  heard  him 
say  this  before  he  had  his  pension.  At  another  time  he  said  to  Mr. 
Langton,  "  Nothing  has  ever  oflered  that  has  made  it  worth  my 
while  to  consider  the  question  fully.  lie,  however,  also  said  to  the 
same  gentleman,  talking  of  King  James  the  Second,  "  It  was 
become  impossible  for  him  to  reign  any  longer  in  this  country."  He 
no  doubt  had  an  early  attachment  to  the  house  of  Stuart  ;  but  his 
zeal  had  cooled  as  his  reason  strengthened  Indeed,  I  heard  him 
once  say,  "  that  after  the  death  of  a  violent  Whig,  with  whom  he 
used  to  contend  with  great  eagerness,  he  felt  his  Toryism  much 
abated."     I  suppose  he  meant  Mr.  Walmesley. 

Yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  at  earlier  periods  he  was  wont  often  to 
exercise  both  his  pleasantry  and  ingenuity  in  talking  Jacobitism. 
My  much  respected  friend,  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Bishop  of  Sahsbury,  haa 
favoured  me  with  the  following  admirable  instance  from  his  Lord- 
ship's own  recollection.  One  day  when  dining  at  old  Mr.  Langton's, 
where  Miss  Roberts,  his  niece,  was  one  of  the  company,  Johnson, 
with  his  usual  complacent  attention  to  the  fair  sex,  took  her  by  the 
hand  and  said,  "  My  dear,  I  hope  you  are  a  Jacobite."  Old  Mr. 
Langton,  who,  though  a  high  and  steady  Tory,  was  attached  to  the 
present  royal  family,  seemed  offended,  and  asked  Johnson  with  great 
warmth,  what  he  could  mean  by  putting  such  a  question  to  his 
niece  ?  "  Why,  Sir,"  said  Johnson,  "  I  meant  no  offence  to  your 
niece.;  I  meant  her  a  great  compliment.  A  Jacobite,  Sir,  believes 
in  the  divine  right  of  kings.  He  that  believes  in  the  divine  right  of 
kings  believes  in  a  Divinity.  A  Jacobite  believes  in  the  divine 
right  of  bishops.  He  that  believes  in  the  divine  right  of  bishops 
believes  in  the  divine  authority  of  the  Christian  religion.  Therefore, 
Sir,  a  Jacobite  is  neither  an  atheist  nor  a  deist.  That  cannot  be 
said  of  a  Whig  ;  for  Whiggism  is  a  negation  of  all  principle.'''' ' 

'   He  used  to  tell,  with  great  humour,  from  my  relation  to  him,  the  following  litt/e  story  cl 

L'j* 


346  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


i7e& 


He  advised  me,  when  abroad,  to  be  as  much  as  I  could  with  the 
professors  in  the  universities,  and  with  the  clergy  ;  for  from  their 
conversation  I  might  expect  the  best  accounts  of  everything,  in 
whatever  country  I  should  be,  with  the  additional  advantage  of 
keeping  my  learning  alive. 

It  A^ill  be  observed,  that  when  giving  me  advice  as  to  my  travels 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  dwell  upon  cities,  and  palaces,  and  pictures,  and 
shows,  and  Arcadian  scenes.  He  was  of  Lord  Essex's  opinion,  who 
advised  his  kinsman  Roger  Earl  of  Rutland,  "  rather  to  go  a  hun- 
dred miles  to  speak  with  one  wise  man,  than  five  miles  to  see  a  fail, 
town."  ' 

T  described  to  him  an  impudent  fellow  from  Scotland,  who 
affected  to  be  a  savage,  and  railed  at  all  established  systems. 
Johnson.  ' '  There  is  nothing  surprising  in  this,  Sir.  He  wants  to 
make  himself  conspicuous.  He  would  tumble  in  a  hogsty,  as  long  as 
you  looked  at  him  and  called  to  him  to  come  out.  But  let  him 
alone,  never  mind  him,  and  he'll  soon  give  it  over." 

I  added,  that  the  same  person  maintained  that  there  was  no  dis- 
tinction between  virtue  and  vice.  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  if  the 
fellow  does  not  think  as  he  speaks,  he  is  lying  ;  and  I  see  not  what 
honour  he  can  propose  to  himself  from  having  the  character  of  a 
liar.  But  if  he  does  really  think  that  there  is  no  distinction  be- 
tween virtue  and  vice^  why,  Sir,  -when  he  leaves  our  house  let  us 
count  our  spoons." 

Sir  David  Dalrymple,''  now  one  of  the  Judges  of  Scotland  by  the 
title  of  Lord  Hailes,  had  contributed  much  to  increase  my  high  opi- 
nion of  Johnson,  on  account  of  his  writings,  long  before  I  attained 
to  a  personal  acquaintance  with  him  :  I,  in  return,  had  informed 
John«on  of  Sir  David's  eminent  character  for  learning  and  religion  ; 
and  Johnson  was  so  much  pleased,  that  at  one  of  our  evening  meet- 
ings  he  gave  him  for  his  toast.     I  at  this  time  kept  up  a  very  fre- 

my  early  years,  which  was  literally  true :  "  Boswell,  in  the  year  1745,  was  a  fine  boy,  wore  a 
white  cockade,  and  prayed  for  King  James,  till  one  of  his  uncles  (General  Cochran)  gave  him 
a  shilling  on  condition  that  he  would  pray  for  King  George,  which  he  accordingly  did.  So  you 
see  (says  Boswell)  that  Whigs  ofall  ages  are  made  the  same  way." 

1  Letters  to  Rutland  on  Travel,  16mo.,  1596. 

^  This  learned  and  excellent  person  was  born  in  1726  ;  ec^ucated  at  Eton,  and  afterwards  at 
Utrecht;  caneu  to  the  Scotch  bar  in  1718;  a  lord  of  session  in  1766.  He  died  in  1792.  H« 
wrote  some  papers  in  the  World  and  Mirror,  and  published  several  original  tracts  on  reli- 
pous,  Uuitorical,  and  antiquarian  subjects,  and  republished  a  great  many  more. — '3, 


^^^'•^  LORD    HAILES.  347 

queut  correspouclence  with  Sir  David  ;  and  I  read  to  Dr  /ohuson 
to-night  the  following  passage  from  the  letter  which  I  had  last  re 
ceived  from  him  : — ■ 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  think  that  you  have  obtained  the  friendship  of  Mr. 
Samuel  Johnson.  He  is  one  of  the  best  moral  writers  which  England  has  pro- 
duced. At  the  same  time,  I  envy  you  the  free  and  undisguised  converse  with 
such  a  man.  May  I  beg  you  to  present  my  best  respects  to  him,  and  to  assure 
him  of  the  veneration  which  I  entertain  for  the  author  of  the  Rambler  and  of 
Kasselas  ?  Let  me  recommend  this  last  work  to  you ;  with  the  Rambler  you 
certainly  are  acquainted.  In  Rasselas  you  will  see  a  tender-hearted  operator, 
who  probes  the  wound  only  to  heal  it.  Swift,  on  the  contrary,  manglea 
human  nature.  He  cuts  and  slashes,  as  if  he  took  pleasure  in  the  operation, 
like  the  tyrant  who  said,  Itaferi  ut  se  sentiat  emori." 

Johnson  seemed  to  be  much  gratified  by  tliis  just  and  well-turned 
compliment. 

He  recommended  to  me  to  keep  a  journal  of  my  life,  full  and  unre- 
served. He  said  it  would  be  a  very  good  exercise,  and  would  yield 
me  great  satisfaction  when  the  particulars  were  faded  from  my 
remembrance.  I  was  uncommonly  fortunate  in  having  had  a  pre- 
vious coincidence  of  opinion  with  him  upon  this  subject,  for  I  had 
kept  such  a  journal  for  some  time  ;  and  it  was  no  small  pleasure  to 
me  to  have  this  to  tell  him,  and  to  receive  his  approbation.  Ho 
counselled  me  to  keep  it  private,  and  said  I  might  surely  have  a 
friend  who  would  burn  it  in  case  of  my  death.  From  this  habit  I 
have  been  enabled  to  give  the  world  so  many  anecdotes,  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  lost  to  posterity.  I  mentioned  that  I 
was  afraid  I  put  into  my  journals  too  many  little  incidents. 
Johnson.  "  There  is  nothing,  Sir,  too  little  for  so  little  a  creature 
as  man.  It  is  by  studying  little  things,  that  we  attain  the  great  art 
of  having  as  little  misery  and  as  much  happiness  as  possible." 

Next  morning  Mr.  Dempster  happened  to  call  on  me,  and  was 
so  much  struck  even  with  the  imperfect  account  which  1  gave  him 
of  Dr.  Johnson's  conversation,  that  to  his  honour  be  it  recorded, 
when  I  complained  that  drinking  port  and  sitting  up  late  with  him, 
affected  my  nerves  for  some  time  after,  he  said,  "  One  had  better 
oe  palsied  at  eighteen  than  not  keep  company  with  such  a  man." 


348  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1?0- 

Ou  Tuesday,  July  19,  I  found  tall  Sir  Thomas  Ilobinson  '  sitting 
with  Johnson.  Sir  Thomas  said,  that  the  King  of  Prussia  valued 
himself  upon  three  things  :  upon  being  a  hero,  a  musician,  and  an 
author.  Johnson.  "  Pretty  well,  Sir,  for  one  man.  As  to  his 
being  an  author,  I  have  not  looked  at  his  poetry  ;  but  his  prose  is 
^)oor  stuff.  He  writes  just  as  you  may  suppose  Voltaire's  footboy  to 
do,  who  has  been  his  amanuensis.  He  has  such  parts  as  the  valet 
might  have,  and  -about  as  much  of  the  colouring  of  the  style  as  might 
be  got  by  transcribing  his  Tvorks."  When  I  was  at  Ferney,  I  re- 
peated this  to  Voltaire,  in  order  to  reconcile  him  somewhat  to  John- 
son, whom  he,  in  affecting  the  English  mode  of  expression,  had 
previously  characterised  as  "a  superstitious  dog  ;"  but  after  hearing 
such  a  criticism  on  Frederick  the  Great,  v/ith  whom  he  was  then  on 
bad  terms,  he  exclaimed,  "  An  honest  fellow  I" 

But  I  think  the  criticism  much  too  severe  ;  for  the  "  Memoirs  of 
the  House  of  Brandenburgh  "  are  written  as  well  as  many  works  of 
that  kind.  His  poetry,  for  the  style  of  which  he  himself  makes  a 
frauk  apology,  "  jurgonnant  un  Frangois  harhare,''^  though  fraught 
with  pernicious  ravings  of  infidelity,  has,  in  many  places,  great  ani- 
mation, and  in  some  a  pathetic  tenderness. 

Upon  this  contemptuous  animadversion  on  the  King  of  Prussia,  I 
observed  to  Joluison,  "  It  would  seem  then,  Sir,  that  much  less  parts 
are  necessary  to  make  a  king,  than  to  make  an  author  ;  for  the 
King  of  Prussia  is  confessedly  the  greatest  king  now  in  Europe,  yet 
you  think  he  makes  a  very  poor  figure  as  an  author." 

Mr.  Leyctt  this  day  showed  me  Dr.  Johnson's  library,  which  was 
contained  in  two  garrets  over  his  chambers,  where  Lintot,  son  of 
the  celebrated  bookseller  of  that  name,  had  formerly  his  warehouse. 
I  found  a  number  of  good  books,  but  very  dusty,  and  in  great  con- 
fusion. The  floor  was  strewed  with  manuscript  leaves,  in  Johnson's 
own  handwriting,  which  I  beheld  with  a  degree  of  veneration,  sup- 
posing they  might  perhaps  contain  portions  of  the  Eambler,  or  of 
Rasselas.  I  observed  an  apparatus  for  chemical  experiments,  o*' 
which  Johnson  was  all  his  life  very  fond.  The  place  seemed  to  be 
very  favourable  for  retirement  and  meditation.     Johnson  told  me, 

'  The  elder  brother  of  the  first  Lord  Rokeby,  called  long  Sir  Thomas  Robinson,  on  account 
of  Ills  blight,  and  to  distinguish  him  from  Sir  Thomas  Ilobinson,  first  Lord  Grantham.  lie  iied 
In  1777.— C. 


^'*T.  64.  "  NOT    AT    HOME  " — PITY.  349 

that  be  wcut  up  thither  without  mentioning  it  to  his  servant  when 
he  wanted  to  study,  secure  from  interruption  ;  for  he  would  not 
allow  his  servant  to  say  he  was  not  at  home  when  he  really  was. 
"  A  servant's  strict  regard  for  truth,"  said  he,  "  must  be  weakened 
by  such  a  practice.  A  philosopher  may  know  that  it  is  merely  a 
form  of  denial  ;  but  few  servants  are  such  nice  distinguishers.  If  I 
accustom  a  servant  to  tell  a  lie  for  me,  have  I  not  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  he  will  tell  many  lies  for  himself  V^  I  am,  however,. satis- 
fied that  every  servant,  of  any  degree  of  intelligence,  understands 
Baying  his  master  is  not  at  home,  not  at  all  as  the  afiirmatiou  of  a 
fact,  but  as  customary  words,  intimating  that  his  master  wishes  not 
to  be  seen  ;  so  that  there  can  be  no  bad  effect  from  it. 

Mr.  Temple,  now  Vicar  of  St.  Gluvias,  Cornwall,  who  had  been 
my  intimate  friend  for  many  years,  had  at  this  time  chambers  in 
Farrar's  Buildings,  at  the  bottom  of  Inner  Temple  Lane,  which  he 
kindly  lent  me  upon  my  quitting  my  lodgings,  he  being  to  return  to 
Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge.  I  found  them  particularly  convenient  for 
me,  as  they  were  so  near  Dr.  Johnson's. 

On  Wednesday,  July  20,  Dr.  Johnson,  Mr.  Dempster,  and  my 
uncle.  Dr.  Bos  well,  who  happened  to  be  now  in  London,  supped  with 
me  at  these  chambers.  Johnson.  "  Pity  is  not  natural  to  man. 
Children  are  always  cruel.  Savages  are  always  cruel.  Pity  is 
acquired  and  improved  by  the  cultivation  of  reason.^  We  may 
have  uneasy  sensations  from  seeing  a  creature  in  distress,  vy»ithout 
pity  ;  for  we  have  not  pity  unless  we  wish  to  relieve  them.  When 
I  am  on  my  way  to  dine  with  a  friend,  and  finding  it  late,  have  bid 
the  coachman  make  haste,  if  I  happen  to  attend  when  h6  whips  bis 
horses,  I  may  feel  unpleasantly  that  the  animals  are  put  to  pain, 

•  Johnson's  antithesis  between  pity  and  cruelty  is  not  exact,  and  tlie  argument  (such  as  it 
Is)  drawn  from  it,  is  therefore  inconclusive.  Pity  is  as  natural  to  man  as  any  other  emotion 
of  the  mind.  The  Bishop  of  Ferns  observes,  tliat  children  are  said  to  be  cruel,  when  it  would 
be  more  just  to  say  that  they  are  ignorant— i\\a.i.  they  do  not  know  that  they  give  pain.  Nor 
are  savages  cruel  in  the  sense  here  used,  for  cruelty's  sake ;  they  use  cruel  means  to  attain  an 
object,  because  they  know  no  other  mode  of  accomplishing  the  object :  and  so  far  is  pity  from 
being  acquired  solely  by  the  cultivation  of  reason,  that  reason  is  one  of  the  checks  upon  the 
p^ty  natural  to  mankind. — C.  ["  We  are  surprised  that  neither  Johnson  nor  his  commenta- 
tors should  have  called  to  mind  Aristotle's  definition  of  pity,  which  gives,  in  a  few  words,  the 
whole  rationale  of  the  matter :  '  Pity  is  a  painful  feeling,  excited  by  the  contemplation  of 
acme  distress,  the  like  of  which  we  know  may  bej'all  ourselves." — Quart.  ReT  voL  xlvi 
P.  86T.i 


S50  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^*• 

but  I  do  not  wish  him    to  desist  :  no,   Sir,  I  wish  him  to  drive 
on." 

Mr.  Alexander  Donaldson,  bookseller  of  Edinburgh,  had  for  some 
time  opened  a  shop  in  London,  and  sold  his  cheap  editions  of  the 
most  popular  Enghsh  books,  in  defiance  of  the  supposed  common- 
law  right  of  Literary  Property.  Johnson,  though  he  concurred  in 
the  opinion  which  was  afterwards  sanctioned  by  a  judgment  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  that  there  was  no  such  right,  was  at  this  time  very 
angry  that  the  booksellers  of  London,  for  whoim  he  uniformly  pro- 
fessed much  regard,  should  suffer  from  an  invasion  of  wha ;  they  had 
ever  considered  to  be  secure  ;  and  he  was  loud  and  violent  against 
Mr.  Donaldson.  "  He  is  a  fellow  who  takes  advantage  of  the  law 
to  injure  his  brethren  ;  for  notwithstanding  that  the  statute  secures 
ouly  fourteen  years  of  exclusive  right,  it  has  always  been  understood 
by  the  trade,  that  he  who  buys  the  copyright  of  a  book  from  the 
author,  obtains  a  perpetual  property  ;  and  upon  that  belief  number- 
less bargains  are  made  to  transfer  that  propei'ty  after  the  expiration 
of  the  statutory  term.  Now  Donaldson,  I  say,  takes  advantage 
here,  of  people  who  have  really  an  equitable  title  from  usage  ;  and 
if  we  consider  how  few  of  the  books,  of  which  they  buy  the  property, 
succeed  so  well  a,s  to  bring  profit,  we  should  be  of  opinion  that  the 
term  of  fourteen  years  is  too  short  ;  it  should  be  sixty  years." 
Dempster.  "  Donaldson,  Sir,  is  anxious  for  the  eucouragement  of 
literature.  He  reduces  the  price  of  books,  so  that  poor  students 
may  buy  them."  Johnson  (laughing).  "  Well,  Sir,  allowing  that 
to  be  his  motive,  he  is  no  better  than  Robin  Hood,  who  robbed 
the  rich  in  order  to  give  to  the  poor  " 

It  is  remarkable,  that  when  the  great  question  concerning  literary 
property  came  to  be  ultimately  tried  before  the  supreme  tribunal  of 
this  country,  in  consequence  of  the  very  spirited  exertions  ^  of  Mr, 
Donaldson,  Dr.  Johnson  was  zealous  against  a  perpetuity  ;  but  he 
thought  that  the  term  of  the  exclusive  right  of  authors  should  be 
considerably  enlarged.     He  was  then  for  granting  a  hundred  years. 

The  conversation  now  turned  upon  Mr.  David  Hume's  style. 
Johnson.     "  Why,  Sir,  his  style  is  not  English  ;  -the  structure  of 

*  It  savours  of  Uiat  nationality  which  Mr.  Boswell  was  so  anxioiis  to  disclaim,  t-o  talk  tbm 
culogistically  of  "  the  very  spirited  exertions  "  of  a  piratical  bookseller. — 0. 


■^"'•'^-  ADVANTAGES    OF   WEALTH.  ^51 

his  senteuces  is  French.  Now  the  French  structure  and  the  English 
structure  may,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  equally  good.  But  if  you 
allow  that  the  English  language  is  established,  he  is  wrong.  My 
name  might  originally  have  been  Nicholson,  as  well  as  Johnson  ;  but 
were  you  to  call  me  Nicholson  now,  you  would  call  me  very  absurdly." 
Kousseau's  treatise  on  the  inequality  of  mankind  was  at  this  time 
a  fashionable  topic.  It  gave  rise  to  an  observation  by  Mr.  Demp 
ster,  that  the  advantages  of  fortune  and  rank  were  nothing  to  a 
wise  man,  who  ought  to  value  only  merit.  Johnson.  "  If  man  were 
a  savage,  living  in  the  woods  by  himself,  this  might  be  true  ;  but  in 
civilised  society  we  all  depend  upon  each  other,  and  our  happiness 
is  very  much  owing  to  the  good  opinion  of  mankind.  Now,  Sir,  in 
civilised  society,  external  advantages  make  us  more  respected.  A 
man  with  a  good  coat  upon  his  back  meets  with  a  better  reception 
than  he  who  has  a  bad  on«?.  Sir,  you  may  analyse  this,  and  say, 
what  is  there  in  it  ?  But  that  will  avail  you  nothing,  for  it  is  a 
part  of  a  general  system.  Pound  St.  Paul's  Church  into  atoms, 
and  consider  any  single  atom  ;  it  is,  to  be  sure,  good  for  nothing  : 
Vut  put  all  these  atoms  together,  and  you  have  St.  Paul's  Church. 
So  it  is  with  human  felicity,  which  is  made  up  of  many  ingredients, 
each  of  which  may  be  shown  to  be  very  insignificant.  In  civilised 
society,  personal  merit  will  not  serve  you  so  much  as  money  will. 
Sir,  you  may  make  the  experiment.  Go  into  the  street,  and  give 
one  man  a  lecture  on  morality,  and  another  a  shilling,  and  see  which 
will  respect  you  most.  If  you  wish  only  to  support  nature.  Sir, 
William  Petty  fixes  your  allowance  at  three  pounds  a  year  ;  but  as 
times  are  much  altered,  let  us  call  it  six  pounds.  This  sum  will  fill 
jour  belly,  shelter  you  from  the  weather,  and  even  get  you  a  strong 
lasting  coat,  supposing  it  to  be  made  of  good  bull's  hide.  Now, 
Sir,  all  beyond  this  is  artificial,  and  is  desired  in  order  to  obtain  a 
greater  degree  of  respect  from  our  fellow  creatures.  And,  Sir,  if 
BLx  hundred  younds  a  year  procure  a  man  more  consequence,  and,  of 
course,  more  happiness,  than  six  pounds  a  year,  the  same  proportion 
will  held  as  to  six  thousand,  and  so  on,  as  far  as  opulence  can  be 
carried.  Perhaps  he  who  has  a  large  fortune  may  not  be  so  happy 
as  he  who  has  a  small  one  ;  but  that  must  proceed  from  other  causes 
than  from  his  having  the  large  fortune  ;  for,  cateris  j^aiibus,  he  who 


352  LIFE   OF   JOHNSON.  -''•*• 

is  rich,  in  civilised  society,  must  be  happier  than  he  who  is  poor  ;  as 
riches,  if  properly  used  (and  it  is  a  man's  own  fault  if  they  are  not) 
must  be  productive  of  the  highest  advantages.  Money,  to  be  sure, 
of  itself  is  of  no  use  ;  for  its  only  use  is  to  part  with  it.  Rousseau, 
and  all  those  who  deal  in  paradoxes,  are  led  away  by  a  childish  de- 
sire of  novelty.'  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  used  always  to  choose  the 
wrong  side  of  a  debate,"  because  most  ingenious  things,  that  is  to 
say,  most  new  things,  could  be  said  upon  it.  Sir,  there  is  nothing 
for  which  you  may  not  muster  up  more  plausible  arguments,  than 
those  which  are  urged  against  wealth  and  other  external  advanta- 
ges. Why,  now,  there  is  stealing  ;  why  should  it  be  thought  a 
crime  ?  When  we  consider  by  what  unjust  methods  property  has 
been  often  acquired,  and  that  what  was  unjustly  got  it  must  be  un- 
just to  keep,  where  is  the  harm  in  one  man  taking  the  property  of 
another  from  him  ?  Besides,  Sir,  when  We  consider  the  bad  use  that 
many  people  make  of  their  property,  and  how  much  better  use  the 
thief  may  make  of  it,  it  may  be  defended  as  a  very  allowable  prac- 
tice. Yet,  Sir,  the  experience  of  mankind  has  discovered  stealing 
to  be  so  very  bad  a  thing,  that  they  make  no  scruple  to  hang  a  man 
for  it.  When  I  was  running  about  this  town  a  very  poor  fellow,  I 
was  a  greater  arguer  for  the  advantages  of  poverty  ;  but  I  was,  at 
the  same  time,  very  sorry  to  be  poor.  Sir,  all  the  arguments  which 
are  brought  to  represent  poverty  as  no  evil,  show  it  to  be  evidently 
a  great  evil.  You  never  find  people  labouring  to  convince  you  that 
you  may  live  very  happily  upon  a  plentiful  fortune.  So  you  hear 
people  talking  how  miserable  a  king  must  be  ;  and  yet  they  all  wish 
to  be  in  his  place." 

It  was  suggested,  that  kings  must  be  unhappy,  because  they  are 
deprived  of  the  greatest  of  all  satisfactions,  easj  und  unreserved 
society.  Johnson.  "  That  is  an  ill-founded  notion.  Being  a  king 
does  not  exclude  a  man  from  such  society.  Great  kings  have 
always  been  social.  The  king  of  Prussia,  the  only  great  king  at 
present,   is   very   social.     Charles   the    Second,    the  last   king  of 

'  Johnson  told  Dr.  Burney,  that  Goldsmith  said,  when  he  first  began  to  write,  he  deter- 
mined to  commit  to  paper  notliing  but  what  was  new  ;  but  he  afterwards  found  that  what  wa« 
new  was  generally  false,  and   from  tliat  time  was  no   longer  solicitous  about  novelty.   • 

BnRNET. 

■•'  This  boyish  practice  appears  to  have  adhered,  in  some  degree,  to  the  man, — 0. 


*'"•"•  MERIT  akd  kank.  353 

EiigUxLd  who  Avas  a  man  of  parts,  was  social  ;  and  our  Henrys  and 
Edwards  were  all  social."  * 

Mr.  Dempster  having  endeavoured  to  maintain  that  intrinsic  merit 
otight  to  make  the  only  distinction  amongst  mankind.  Johnson. 
"  Why,  Sir,  mankind  have  found  that  this  cannot  be.  How  shall 
we  determine  the  proportion  of  intrinsic  merit  ?  Were  that  to  be 
tlie  only  distinction  amongst  mankind,  we  should  soon  quarrel  about 
the  degrees  of  it.  Were  all  distinctions  abolished,  the  strongest 
would  not  long  acquiesce,  but  would  endeavour  to  obtain  a  supe- 
riority by  their  bodily  strength.  But,  Sir,  as  subordination  is  very 
necessary  for  society,  and  contentions  for  superiority  very  dangerous, 
mankind,  that  is  to  say,  all  civilized  nations,  have  settled  it  upon  a 
plain  invariable  principle.  A  man  is  born  to  hereditary  rank  ;  or 
his  being  appointed  to  certain  offices  gives  him  a  certain  rank 
Subordination  tends  greatly  to  human  happiness.  Were  we  all 
upon  an  equality,  we  should  ha.ve  no  other  enjoyment  than  mere 
animal  pleasure," 

I  said,  I  consider  distinction  of  rank  to  be  of  so  much  importance 
in  civilized  society,  that  if  I  were  asked  on  the  same  day  to  dine 
with  the  first  Duke  in  England,  and  with  the  first  man  in  Britain  for 
genius,  I  shoulj  hesitate  which  to  prefer.  Johnson.  "  To  be  sure, 
Sir,  if  you  were  to  dine  only  once,  and  it  were  never  to  be  known 
where  you  dined,  you  would  choose  rather  to  dine  with  the  first 
man  for  genius  ;  but  to  gain  most  respect,  you  should  dine  with  the 
first  duke  in  England.  For  nine  people  in  ten  that  you  meet  with, 
would  have  a  higher  opinion  of  you  for  having  dined  with  a  duke  ; 
and  the  great  genius  himself  would  receive  you  better,  because  you 
had  been  with  the  great  duke." 

He  took  care  to  guard  himself  against  any  possible  suspicion  that 
his  settled  principles  of  reverence  for  rank,  and  respect  for  wealth, 
were  at  all  owing  to  mean  or  interested  motives  ;  for  he  asserted  his 
own  independence  as  a  literary  man.  "  No  man,"  said  he,  "  who 
ever  lived  by  literature,  has  lived  more  independently  than  I  have 
done."     He  said  he  had  taken  longer  time  than  he  needed  to  have 

1  This  opinbn  has  received  stroDg  confirmation  from  liis  late  majesty  George  the  Fourth, 
irhose  natural  abilities  were  undoubtedly  very  considerable,  whose  reign  was  eminently  glo* 
Hcu3,  And  whose  private  life  was  amiable  and  social. — 0. 


^U  LIFE    OF   JOHXSON.  1*^ 

done  iu  comjjosing  bis  Dictionary.  He  received  our  compliments 
upon  that  great  work  with  complacency,  and  told  us  that  the 
Academy  della  Crusca  could  scarcely  believe  that  it  was  done  by 
one  man. 

Next  morning  I  found  him  alone,  and  have  preserved  the  follow- 
ing fragments  of  his  conversation.  Of  a  gentleman  *  who  was  men- 
tioned, he  said,  "  I  have  not  met  with  any  man  for  a  long  time  who 
has  given  me  such  general  displeasure.  He  is  totally  unfixed  in  his 
principles,  and  wants  to  puzzle  other  people."  I  said  his  principles 
had  been  poisoned  by  a  noted  infidel  writer,  but  that  he  was,  never- 
theless, a  benevolent  good  man.  Johnson.  "  We  can  have  no 
dependence  upon  that  instinctive,  that  constitutional  goodness  which 
is  not  founded  upon  principle.  I  grant  you  that  such  a  man  may  be 
a  very  amiable  member  of  society.  I  can  conceive  him  placed  in 
such  a  situation  that  he  is  not  much  tempted  to  deviate  from  what 
is  right  ;  and  as  every  man  prefers  virtue,  when  I'lere  is  not  some 
strong  incitement  to  transgress  its  precepts,  I  can  conceive  him 
doing  nothing  wrong.  But  if  such  a  man  stood  in  need  of  money,  I 
should  not  like  to  trust  him  ;  and  I  should  certainly  not  trust  him 
with  young  ladies,  for  there  there  is  always  temptation.  Hume,  and 
other  sceptical  innovators,  are  vain  men,  and  will  gratify  themselves 
at  any  expense.  Truth  will  not  atford  sufficient  food  to  their  vanity  ; 
so  they  have  betaken  themselves  to  error.  Truth,  Sir,  is  a  cow  which 
will  yield  such  people  no  more  milk,  and  so  they  are  gone  to  milk 
the  bull.  If  I  could  have  allowed  myself  to  gratify  my  vanity  at 
the  expense  of  truth,  what  fame  might  I  have  acquired  1  Every- 
thing which  Hume  has  advanced  against  Christianity  had  passed 
through  my  mind  long  before  he  wrote.  Always  remember  this, 
that  after  a  system  is  well  settled  upon  positive  evidence,  a  few  par- 
tial objections  ought  not  to  shake  it.  The  human  mind  is  so  limited, 
that  it  cannot  take  in  all  the  parts  of  a  subject,  so  that  there  may 
be  objections  raised  against  anything.  There  are  objections  against 
a  plenum,  and  objections  against  a  vacuum  ;  yet  one  of  them  must 
certainly  be  true." 

J  Btobably  Mr.  Dempster,  whose  share  in  the  preceding  co  versAtJcD  was  very  likely  t« 
have  displeased  Johnson.  The  "  infidel "  writer  is  no  doubt  Dempster's  oountcymaa,  HU, 
Uume. — 0. 


*^"M.  THE  Turk's  hkad.  35ft 

I  mentioned  Hume's  argument  against  tlie  belief  of  miracles,  that 
it  is  more  probable  that  the  witnesses  to  the  truth  of  them  are  mis- 
taken, or  speak  falsely,  than  that  the  miracles  should  be  true. 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  the  great  difficulty  of  proving  miracles  sliould 
make  us  very  cautious  in  believing  them.  But  let  us  consider  , 
although  God  has  made  Nature  to  operate  by  certain  fixed  laws, 
yet  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  think  that  he  maiy  suspend  those  laws, 
in  order  to  establish  a  system  highly  advantageous  to  mankind. 
Now  the  Christian  religion  is  a  most  beneficial  system,  as  it  gives  us 
light  and  certainty  where  we  were  before  in  darkness  and  doubt. 
The  miracles  which  prove  it  are  attested  by  men  who  had  no  interest 
in  deceiving  us  ;  but  who,  on  the  contrary,  were  told  that  they 
should  suffer  persecution,  and  did  actually  lay  down  their  lives  in  con- 
firmation of  the  truth  of  the  facts  which  they  asserted.  Indeed,  for 
some  centuries  the-  heathens  did  not  pretend  to  deny  the  miracles  ; 
but  said  they  were  performed  by  the  aid  of  evil  spirits.  This  is  a 
circumstance  of  great  weight.  Then,  Sir,  when  we  take  the  proofs 
derived  from  prophecies  which  have  been  so  exactly  fulfilled,  we 
have  most  satisfactory  evidence.  Supposing  a  miracle  possible,  as  to 
which,  in  my  opinion,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  we  have  as  strong 
evidence  for  the  miracles  in  support  of  Christianity  as  the  nature  of 
the  thing  admits." 

At  night,  Mr.  Johnson  and  I  supped  in  a  private  room  at  the 
Turk's  Head  coffee-house,  in  the  Strand.  "  I  encourage  this  house," 
said  he,  "  for  the  mistress  of  it  is  a  good  civil  woman,  and  has  not 
much  business." 

"  Sir,  I  love  the  acquaintance  of  young  people  ;  becausb,  in  the 
first  place,  I  don't  like  to  think  myself  growing  old.  In  the  next 
place,  young  acquaintances  must  last  longest,  if  they  do  last  ;  and 
then,  Sir,  young  men  have  more  virtue  than  old  men  ;  they  have 
more  generous  sentiments  in  every  respect.  I  love  the  young  dogs 
of  this  age,  they  have  more  wit  and  humour  and  knowledge  of  life 
than  we  had  ;'  but  theu  the  dogs  are  not  so  good  scholars.  Sir,  in 
my  early  years  I  read  very  hard.     It  is  a  sad  reflection,  but  a  true 

>  The  justice  of  this  assertion  may  be  doubted.  Johnson  was  comparing  men  of  such  a  rank 
tnd  station  as  he  now  met,  with  the  narrow,  provincial,  and  inferior  society  in  which  his  own 
jrouta  was  spent. — 0. 


■856  LIFE    OF   JOH-VSON.  -W 

one,  that  I  knew  almost  as  much  at  eighteen  as  I  do  now.'  My 
judgment,  to  be  sure,  was  not  so  good  ;  but,  I  had  all  the  facts  I 
remember  very  well,  when  I  was  at  Oxford,  an  old  gentleman  said 
to  me,  '  Young  man,  ply  your  book  diligently  now,  and  acquire  a 
stock  of  knowledge  ;  for  when  years  come  unto  you,  you  will  fine* 
that  poring  upon  books  will  be  but  an  irksome  task.'  " 

This  account  of  his  reading,  given  by  himself  in  plain  words,  suffi- 
ciently confirms  what  I  have  already  advanced  upon  the  disputed 
question  as  to  his  application.  It  reconciles  any  seeming  inconsis- 
tency in  his  way  of  talking  upon  it  at  different  times  ;  and  shows 
that  idleness  and  reading  hard  were  with  him  relative  terms,  the 
import  of  which,  as  used  by  him,  must  be  gathered  from  a  compari- 
son with  what  scholars  of  different  degrees  of  ardour  and  assiduity 
have  been  known  to  do.  And  let  it  be  remembered,  that  he  was 
now  talking  spontaneously,  and  expressing  his  genuine  sentiments  ; 
whereas  at  other  times  he  might  be  induced  from  his  spirit  of  contra- 
diction, or  more  properly  from  his  love  of  argumentative  contest,  to 
speak  lightly  of  his  own  application  to  study.  It  is  pleasing  to  con- 
sider that  the  old  gentleman's  gloomy  prophecy  as  to  the  irksome- 
ness  of  books  to  men  of  an  advanced  age,  which  is  too  often  fulfilled, 
was  so  far  from  being  verified  in  Jolinson,  that  his  ardour  for  litera* 
ture  never  failed,  and  his  last  writings  had  more  ease  and  vivacity 
than  any  of  his  earlier  productions. 

He  mentioned  it  to  me  now,  for  the  first  time,  that  he  had  been 
distressed  by  melancholy,  and  for  that  reason  had  been  obliged  to  fly 
from  study  and  meditation,  to  the  dissipating  variety  of  life.  Against 
melancholy  he  recommended  constant  occupation  of  mind,  a  great 
deal  of  exercise,  moderation  in  eating  and  drinking,  and  especially  to 
shun  drinking  at  night.  He  said  melancholy  people  were  apt  to  fly 
to  intemperance  for  relief,  but  that  it  sunk  them  much  deeper  in 
misery.  He  observed,  that  labouring  men,  who  work  hard,  and  live 
sparingly,  are  seldom  or  never  troubled  with  low  spirits. 

He  again  insisted  on  the  duty  of  maintaining  subordination  of 
rank.     "  Sir,  I  would  no  more  deprive  a  nobleman  of  his  respect, 

1  His  great  period  of  study  was  from  the  age  of  twelve  to  that  of  eighteen;  as  he  told  Mr. 
Langton,  who  gave  me  this  information.— M.  He  went  to  Oxford  in  his  nineteenth 
year,  and  seems  to  have  translated  the  Messiah  when  he  had  been  there  not  quite  thre« 
luontns. — 0. 


*^*''-  ^  LEVELI.KRS.  357 

than  of  his  money.  I  consider  myself  as  acting  a  part  in  the  great 
system  of  society,  and  I  do  to  others  as  I  would  have  them  to  do  tcf 
me.  I  would  behave  to  a  nobleman  as  I  should  expect  he  would 
behave  to  me,  were  I  a  nobleman  and  he  Sara.  Johnson.  Sir,  there 
Is  one  Mrs.  Macaulay,'  in  this  town,  a  great  republican.  One  day 
when  I  was  at  her  house,  I  put  on  a  very  grave  countenance,  and 
said  to  her,  '  Madam,  I  am  now  become  a  convert  to  your  way  of 
thinking.  I  am  convinced  that  all  mankind  are  upon  an  equal  foot- 
ing ;  and  to  give  you  an  unquestionable  proof.  Madam,  that  I  am  in 
earnest,  here  is  a  very  sensible,  civil,  well-behaved  fellow  citizen, 
your  footman  ;  I  desire  that  ^e  may  be  allowed  to  sit  down  and  dine 
with  us.'  I  thus,  Sir,  shewed  her  the  absurdity  of  the  levelling  doc- 
trine. She  has  never  liked  me  since.  Sir,  your  levellers  wish  to 
level  down  as  far  as  themselves  ;  but  they  cannot  bear  levelling  up 
to  themselves.  They  would  all  have  some  people  under  them  ;  why 
not  then  have  some  people  above  them  ?"  I  mentioned  a  certain 
author "  who  disgusted  me  by  his  forwardness,  and'by  shewing  no 
deference  to  noblemen  into  whose  company  he  was  admitted. 
Johnson.  "  Suppose  a  shoemaker  should  claim  an  equality  witli 
him,  as  he  does  with  a  lord  :  how  he  would  stare.  '  Why,  Sir,  do 
you  stare  ?  (says  the  shoemaker,)  I  do  great  service  to  society.  'Tis 
true,  I  am  paid  for  doing  it ;  but  so  are  you.  Sir  :  and  I  am  sorry 
to  say  it,  better  paid  than  I  am,  for  doing  something  not  so  necessary. 
For  mankind  could  do  better  without  your  books,  than  without  my 
shoes.'  Thus,  Sir,  there  would  be  a  perpetual  struggle  for  prece- 
dence, were  there  no  fixed  invariable  rules  for  the  distinction  of 
rank,  which  creates  no  jealousy,  as  it  is  allowed  to  be  accidental." 

He  said.  Dr.  Joseph  Wartou  was  a  very  agreeable  man,  and  his 
"  Essay  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope,"  a  very  pleasing  book. 
I  wondered  that  he  delayed  so  long  to  give  us  the  continuation  of  it. 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  suppose  he  finds  himself  a  little  disap- 
pointed, in  not  having  been  able  to  persuade  the  world  to  be  of  his 
opinion  as  to  Pope." 

We   have  now  been   favoured  with   the  concluding   volume,  in 

1  This  "  one  Mrs.  Macaulay  "  was  the  same  personage,  who  afterwards  made  herself  8« 
Biuch  known  as  "  the  celebrated  female  historian." — C. 

*  Something  of  this  land  l;a*  been  imputed  to  Goldsmith. — C. 


858  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOJf. 


1768. 


which,  to  use  a  parliamentary  expression,  he  has  explained,  so  as  not 
to  appear  quite  so  adverse  to  the  opinion  of  the  world,  concerning 
Pope,  as  was  at  first  thought  -^  and  we  must  all  agree,  that  his  work 
Ls  a  most  valuable  accession  to  English  literature. 

A  writer  of  deserved  eminence  '  being  mentioned,  Johnson  said, 
"Why,  Sir,  he  is  a  man  of  good  parts,  but  being  originally  poor,  he 
has  got  a  love  of  mean  company,  and  low  jocularity  ;  a  very  bad 
thing.  Sir.  To  laugh  is  good,  as  to  talk  is  good.  But  you  ought  no 
.more  to  think  it  enough  if  you  laugh,  than  you  are  to  think  it 
enough  if  you  talk.  You  may  laugh  in  as  many  ways  as  you  talk  ; 
and  surely  cver3/ way  of  talking  that  is j)ractised  cannot  be  esteemed." 

I  spoke  of  a  Sir  James  Macdonald '  as  a  young  man  of  most 
distinguished  merit,  who  united  the  highest  reputation  at  Eaton 
and  Oxford,  with  the  patriarchal  spirit  of  a  great  Highland  chief- 
tain. I  mentioned  that  Sir  James  had  said  to  me,  that  he  had 
never  seen  Mr.  Johnson,  but  he  had  a  great  respect  for  him*  though 
at  the  same  tilne  it  was  mixed  vv^ith  some  degree  of  terror.  John- 
son. "  Sir,  if  he  were  acquainted  with  me,  it  might  lessen  both." 

The  mention  of  this  gentleman  led  us  to  talk  of  the  Western 
Islands  of  Scotland,  to  visit  which  he  expressed  a  wish  that  then 
appeared  to  me  a  very  romantic  fancy,  which  I  little  thought  would 
be  afterwards  realised.  He  told  me,  that  his  father  had  put  Martin's 
account  of  those  islands  into  his  hands  when  he  was  very  young, 
and  tliat  he  was  highly  pleased  with  it  ;  that  he  was  particularly 
struck  with  the  St.  Kilda  man's  notion  that  tlie  high  church  of  Glas- 
gow had  been  hollowed  out  of  a  rock  ; '  a  circumstance  to  which 
old  Mr.  Johnson  had  directed  his  attention.     He  said,  he  would  go 

1  It  is  not  easy  to  say  who  was  here  meant.  Murphy,  who  was  born  poor,  was  distinguishej 
for  elegance  of  manners  and  conversation ;  acd  Fielding,  who  could  not  have  been  spoken  of 
as  alive  in  1T63,  was  born  to  better  ijrosjiects,  though  he  kept  low  comi)any ;  and  had  it  been 
Goldsmith,  Boswell  would  probably  have  had  no  scruple  in  naming  him. — C.  1830.  The 
nfeighboiing  mention  of  the  name  of  Warton,  and  the  allusion  to  "a  fondness  for  ow  com- 
pany," with  which  he  has  been  often  reproached  (though  Dr.  Mant  says  unjustly),  in«.  ines  me 
to  suspect  that  he  is  the  person  meant. — C.  1835.  Will  the  editor  allow  us  to  suggest 
the  name  of  Smollett;  who  had  left  London  for  Italy,  the  month  before  this  conversation 
occurs,  and  might  naturally  be  talked  of. — Quart.  Rev.  1881. 

^  Hee  post,  March  27,  1772,  and  September  5,  1773. — 0.  [See  also  Mrs.  Carter's  Letters  to 
Mrs.  Montague,  for  a  notice  of  this  gentleman's  premiiture  death,  vol.  i  310,  320.] 

'  Addison  in  the  Spectator,  No.  50,  makes  the  Indian  king  suj^pose  that  St.  Paul's  WM 
carved  out  of  a  rock. — C 


^Gtat.  64 

SIR   DAVID   DALRYMPLE.  359 

to  tlie  Hebrides  with  me,  m'Iicu  I  returned  from  mj  travels,  unless 
some  very  good  oomjranion  should  offer  when  I  was  absent,  which  he 
did  not  think  probable  ;  adding,  "  There  are  few  people  to  whom 
I  take  so  much  to  as  to  you."  And  when  I  talked  of  my  leaving 
England,  he  said  with  a  very  affectionate  air,  "  My  dear  Boswell,  I 
should^ be  very  unhappy  at  parting,  did  I  think  we  were  not  to  meet 
agaui."  I  cannot  too  often  remind  my  readers,  that  although  such 
instances  of  his  kindness  are  doubtless  very  flattering  to  me  yet  I 
hope  my  recording  them  will  be  ascribed  to  a  better  motive  than  to 
vanity  ;  for  they  afford  unquestionable  evidence  of  his  tenderness 
and  complacency,  which  some,  while  they  were  forced  to  acknow- 
ledge his  great  powers,  have  been  so  strenuous  to  deny. 

He  maintained,  that  a  boy  at  school  was  the  happiest  of  human 
beings.  I  supported  a  different  opinion,  from  which  I  have  never 
yet  varied,  that  a  man  is  happier  :  and  I  enlarged  upon  the  anxiety 
and  sufferings  which  are  endured  at  school.  Johnson.  "Ah  !  Sir 
a  boy's  being  flogged  is  not  so  severe  as  a  man's  having  the  hiss  of 
the  world  against  him.  Men  have  a  solicitude  about  fame  •  and 
the  greater  share  they  have  of  it,  the  more  afraid  they  are  of  losing 
It."  I  silently  asked  myself,  "  Is  it  possible  that  the  great  Samuel 
Johnson  really  entertains  any  such  apprehension,  and  is  not  confi- 
dent that  his  exalted  fame  is  established  upon  a  foundation  never  to 
be  shaken  ?" 

He  this  evening  drank  a  bumper  to  Sir  David  Dalrymple  "as  a 
man  of  worth,  a  scholar,  and  a  wit."  "I  have,"  said  he  '  "never 
heard  of  him,  except  from  you  ;  but  let  him  know  my  opinion  of 
him  :  for,  as  he  dDes  aot  shew  himself  much  in  the  world,  he  should 
have  the  praise  of  the  few  who  hear  of  him." 


CHAPTEE    XVill. 

1163. 

Table-Talk — Inauence  of  the  Weather— Swift— Thomson — Burke — Sheridan — Evidences  of 
ChiTstianity — Derrick — Daj'  at  Greenwich — The  Methodists— Johnson's  "Walk  "—The  Con- 
Tocation — Blacklock — Johnson  accompanies  Boswell  to  Harwich — The  Journey — "  Good 
Eating  " — "  Abstinence  and  Temperance  " — Johnson's  favourite  Dishes — Bishop  Berkeley 
"  refuted  " — Burke — Boswell  sails  for  Holland. 

On  Tuesday,  July  26,  I  found  Mr.  Johnson  alone.  It  was  a  very 
wet  day,  aud  I  again  complained  of  the  disagreeable  effects  of  such 
weather.  Johnson.  "Sir,  this  is  all  imagination,  which  physicians 
encourage  ;  for  man  lives  in  air,  as  a  fish  lives  in  water  ;  so  that,  if 
the  atmosphere  press  heavy  from  above,  there  is  on  equal  resistance 
from  below.  To  be  sure,  bad  weather  is  hard  upon  people  who  are 
obliged  to  be  abroad  ;  and  men  cannot  labor  so  well  in  the  open 
air  in  bad  weather,  as  in  good  :  but,  Sir,  a  smith  or  a  tailor,  whose 
work  is  within  doors,  will  surely  do  as  much  in  itihiy  weather  as  in 
fair.  Some  very  delicate  frames  indeed  may  be  affected  by  wet 
weather  ;  but  not  common  constitutions." 

We  talked  of  the  education  of  children  ;  and  I  asked  him  what 
he  thought  was  best  to  teach  them  first.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  no 
matter  what  you  teach  them  first,  any  more  than  what  leg  you 
shall  put  into  your  breeches  first.  Sir,  you  may  stand  disputing 
which  is  best  to  put  in  first,  but  in  the  mean  time  your  breech  is 
bare.  Sir,  while  you  are  considering  which  of  the  two  things  you 
should  teach  your  child  first,  another  boy  has  learnt  them  both. 

On  Thursday,  July  28,  we  again  supped  in  private  at  the  Turk's 
Head  coffee-house.  Johnson.  "  Swift  has  a  higher  reputation 
than  he  deserves.  His  excellence  is  strong  sense  ;  for  his  humour, 
though  very  well,  is  not  remarkably  good.  I  doubt  whether  the 
'  Tale  of  a  Tub '  be  his  ;  for  he  never  owned  it,  and  it  is  much 
above  his  usual  manner.' 

'  This  opinion  was  given  by  him  more  at  large  at  a  subsequent  period.    See  post,  Aug.  16, 
860 


^TAT.  54.  THOMSON — BtJRKE — SHERIDAN.  361 

"  Thomson,  I  think,  had  as  much  of  the  poet  about  him  as  most 
writers.  Everything  appeared  to  him  through  the  medium  of  his 
favourite  pursuit.  He  could  not  have  viewed  those  two  candles 
burning  but  with  a  poetical  eye." 

"  Has  not *  a  great  deal  of  wit,  Sir  ?"     Johnson.     "  I  do 

not  think  so.  Sir.  He  is,  indeed,  continually  attempting  wit,  but 
he  fails.  And  I  have  no  more  pleasure  in  hearing  a  man  attempt- 
ing wit  and  failing,  than  in  seeing  a  man  trying  to  leap  over  a  ditch 
and  tumbling  into  it." 

He  laughed  heartily  when  I  mentioned  to  him  a  saying  of  his 
concerning  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan,  which  Foote  took  a  wicked  plea- 
sure to  circulate.  "  Why,  Sir,  Sherry  is  dull,  naturally  dull  ;  but 
it  must  have  taken  him  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  become  wha  t  ^we 
now  see  him.  Such  an  access  of  stupidity,  Sir,  is  not  in  Nature." 
"  So,"  said  he,    "  I  allowed  him  all  his  own  -merit." 

He  now  added,  "  Sheridan  cannot  bear  me.  I  bring  his  declama- 
tion to  a  point.  I  ask  him  a  plain  question,  '  What  do  you  mean 
to  teach  ?'  Besides,  Sir,  what  influence  can  Mr.  Sheridan  have  upon 
the  language  of  this  great  country,  by  his  narrow  exertions  ?  Sir, 
it  is  burning  a  farthing  candle  at  Dover  to  show  light  at  Calais." 

Talking  of  a  young  man  ^  who  was  uneasy  from  thinking  that  he 
was  very  deficient  in  learning  and  knov/ledge,  he  said,  "A  man  has 
no  reason  to  complain  who  holds  a  middle  place,  and  has  many 
Delow  hun  ;  and  perhaps  he  has  not  six  of  his  years  above  him  ;  per- 
haps not  one.  Though  he  may -know  anything  perfectly,  the  gene- 
ral mass  of  knowledge  that  he  has  acquired  is  inconsiderable.  Time 
will  do  for  him  all  that  is  wanting." 

The   conversation    then   took   a  philosophical   turn.     Johnson. 
"  Human  experience,  which  is  constantly  contradicting  theory,  is  the 
great  test  of   truth.     A  system,  built  upon  the  discoveries  of 
great  many  minds,  is  always  of  more  strength,  than  what  is  pro- 

1773 — B.  How  could  Johnson  doubt  that  Swift  was  the  author  of  the  Tale  of  a  Tub,  when, 
as  he  himself  relates  in  his  Life  of  Swift,  "  No  other  claimants  can  be  produced  ;  and  when 
Archbishop  Sharpe  and  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  by  showing  it  to  Queen  Anne,  debarred  Swift 
of  a  bishopric,  he  did  not  deny  it  t"  We  have,  moreover.  Swift's  own  ackao\rledgment  o/ 
It,  in  his  letter  to  Ben.  Tooke  the  printer,  June  29,  1710.— C. 

1  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  blank  must  be  filled  with  the  name  of  Mr.  Burk*. 

*  No  doubt  Boswell  himself. 

VOL.   I.  16 


362  tIFE   OF  JOHNSON.  ^^® 

duced  by  the  mere  workings  of  any  one  mind,  wbicli  of  itself  can 
do  little.  There  is  not  so  poor  a  book  in  the  world  that  Tvonld 
not  be  a  prodigious  effort  were  it  wrought  out  entirely  by  a  single 
mind,  without  the  aid  of  prior  investigators.  The  French  writers 
are  superficial,  because  they  are  not  scholars,  and  so  proceed  upon 
the  mere  power  of  their  own  minds  ;  and  we  see  how  very  little 
power  they  have." 

"As  to  the  Christian  religion,  Sir,  besides  the  strong  evidence 
which  we  have  for  it,  there  is  a  balance  in  its  favour  from  the  num- 
ber of  great  men  who  have  been  convinced  of  its  truth,  after  a 
serious  consideration  of  the  question.  Grotius  was  ar.  acute  man,  a 
lawyer,  a  man  accustomed  to  examine  evidence,  and  he  was  con- 
vinced. Grotius  was  not  a  recluse,  but  a  man  of  the  woiid,  who 
certainly  had  no  bias  to  the  side  of  religion.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  set 
out  an  infidel,  and  came  to  be  a  very  firm  believer." 

He  this  evening  again  recommended  me  to  perambulate  Spain.' 
I  said  it  would  amuse  him  to  get  a  letter  from  me  dated  at  Sala- 
manca. Johnson.  "  I  love  the  university  of  Salamanca  ;  for  when 
the  Spaniards  were  in  doubt  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  their  conquering 
America,  the  university  of  Salamanca  gave  it  as  their  opinion  that 
it  was  not  lawful."  He  spoke  this  with  great  emotion,  and  with  that 
generous  warmth  which  dictated  the  lines  in  his  "  London,"  against 
Spanish  encroachment.* 

I  expressed  my  opinion  of  my  friend  Derrick  as  put  a  poor  writer. 
Johnson.  "  To  be  sure,  Sir,  he  is  :  but  you  are  to  consider  that  his 
being  a  literary  man  has  got  for  him  all  that  he  has.  It  has  made 
him  King  of  Bath.  Sir,  he  has  nothing  to  say  for  himself  but  that 
he  is  a  writer.  Had  he  not  been  a  writer,  he  must  have  been 
sweeping  the  crossings  in  the  streets,  and  asking  halfpence  from 
everybody  that  passed." 

In  justice,  however,  to  the  memory  of  Mr.  Derrick,  who  was  my 

1 1  fully  intended  to  have  followed  advice  of  such  weight ;  but  having  staid  much  longer  both 
in  Germany  and  Italy  than  1  proposed  to  do,  and  having  also  visited  Corsica,  I  found  that  I 
had  exceeded  the  time  allowed  me  by  my  father,  and  hastened  to  France  in  my  way  home- 
wards.—B. 

2  "  Has  Heaven  reserved,  in  pity  to  the  poor, 
No  pathless  waste,  or  undiscover'd  shore  ! 
No  secret  island  in  the  boundless  main  f 
No  peaceful  desert  yet  unclaiui'd  by  Spain  1" 


''^'^^  *^  DERRICK.  363 

first  tutor  in  the  ways  of  London,  and  shewed  me  the  town  m  ull  its 
variety  of  departments,  both  Hterary  and  sportive,  the  particulars 
of  which  Dr.  Johnson  advised  me  to  put  in  writing,  it  is  proper  to 
mention  what  Johnson,  at  a  subsequent  period,  said  of  him  both  as 
a  writer  and  an  editor  :  "  Sir,  I  have  often  said,  that  if  Derrick's  let- 
ters had  been  written  by  one  of  a  more  established  uame,  they 
would  have  been  thought  very  pretty  letters."  And,  "  I  sent  Der- 
rick to  Dryden's  relations  to  gather  materials  for  his  life  ;  and 
I  believe  he  got  all  that  I  myself  shotlld  have  got." 

Poor  Derrick  !  I  remember  him  with  kindness.  Yet  I  cannot 
withhold  from  my  readers  a  pleasant  hum'ourous  sally  which  could 
not  have  hurt  him  had  he  been  alive,  and  now  is  perfectly  harmless. 
In  his  collection  of  poems,  there  is  one  upon  entering  the  harbour  of 
Dublin,  his  native  city,  after  a  long  absence.     It  begins  thus  : 

"  Eblana  !  much  loved  city,  hail ! 
Where  first  I  saw  the  light  of  day  !" 

And  after  a  solemn  reflection  on  his  being  "  numbered  with  forgot- 
ten dead,"  there  is  the  following  stanza  : 

"  Unless  ray  Hues  protract  ray  fame, 

And  those,  who  chance  to  read  them,  cry, 
I  knew  him !  Derrick  was  his  name, 
In  yonder  tomb  his  ashes  lie  :" — 

which  was  thus  happily  parodied  by  Mr.  John  Home,  to  whom  w« 
owe  the  beautiful  and  pathetic  tragedy  of  "Douglas  :"  ■ 

"  Unless  my  deeds  protract  my  fame 
And  he  who  passes  sadly  sings, 
I  knew  him !  Derrick  was  his  name, 
On  yonder  tree  his  carcase  swings  .'" 

I  doubt  much  whether  the  amiable  and  ingenious  author  of  these 
burlesque  lines  will  recollect  them  ;  for  they  were  produced  extem- 
pore one  evening  while  he  and  I  were  walking  together  in  the 
dining  room  at  Eglintoune  Castle,  in  1160.  and  I  have  never  men- 
tioned them  to  him  since 

Johnson  said  once  to  me,  "  Sir,  I  honour  Derrick  for  his  presenca 


364  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^' 

of  luind.  Oue  night,  when  Flojd,'  another  poor  author,  was  wan- 
dering about  the  streets  in  the  night,  he  found  Derrick  fast  asleep 
upon  a  bulk  :  upon  being  suddenly  waked,  Derrick  started  up,  '  My 
dear  Floyd,  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  this  destitute  state  :  will  you 
go  home  with  me  to  my  lodgings  V  " 

I  again  begged  his  advice  as  to  my  method  of  study  at  Utrecht. 
*  Come,"  said  he,  "  let  us  make  a  day  of  it.  Let  us  go  down  to 
Greenwich  and  dine,  and  talk  of  it  there."  The  following  Saturday 
was  fixed  for  this  excursion.  ' 

As  we  walked  along  the  Strand  to-night,  arm  in--  arm,  a  woman 
of  the  town  accosted  us,  in  the  usual  enticing  manner.  "  No,  no,  my 
girl,"  said  Johnson,  "  it  won't  do."  He,  however,  did  not  treat  her 
with  harshness  ;  and  we  talked  of  the  wretched  life  of  such  women, 
and  agreed,  that  much  more  misery  than  happiness,  upon  the  whole, 
is  produced  by  illicit  commerce  between  the  sexes. 

On  Saturday,  July  30,  Dr.  Johnson  and  I  took  a  sculler  at  the 
Temple-stairs,  and  set  out  for  Greenwich.  I  asked  him  if  he  really 
thought  a  knowledge  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  an  essential 
requisite  to  a  good  education.  Johnson.  "  Most  certainly,  Sir  ; 
for  those  who  know  them  have  a  very  great  advantage  over  those 
who  do  not.  Nay,  Sir,  it  is  wonderful  what  a  difference  learning 
makes  upon  people  even  in  the  common  intercourse  of  life,  which 
does  not  appear  to  be  much  connected  with  it."  "  And  yet,"  said  I, 
"  people  go  through  the  worid  very  well,  and  carry  on  the  business 
of  life  to  good  advantage,  without  learning.  Johnson.  "  Why, 
Sir,  that  may  be  true  in  cases  where  learning  cannot  possibly  be  of 
any  use  ;  for  instance,  this  boy  rows  us  as  well  without  learning  as 
if  he  could  sing  the  song  of  Orpheus  to  the  Ai'gonauts,  who  were 
the  first  sailors."  He  then  called  to  the  boy,  "  What  would  you 
give,  my  lad,  to  know  about  the  Argonauts  ?"  "  Sir,"  said  the  boy, 
"  I  would  give  what  I  have."  Johnson  was  much  pleased  with  his 
answer,  and  we  gave  hira  a  double  fare  Dr.  Johnson  then  turning 
to  me,  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  a  desire  of  knowledge  is  the  natural  feeling 
of  mankind  ;  and  every  human  being,  whose  mind  is  not  debauched, 
will  be  willing  to  give  all  that  he  has,  to  get  knowledge." 

'  Thomas  Floyd  published,  in  1760,  "  Bibliotheca  Biographica ;  a  Synopsis  of  Universal 
Biogiaphy,  in  three  voUimes,  8vo.,  an4  in  176Q,  a  Translation  of  Du  Fresnay's  Chronologic4 
I'ab'es  of  Universal  History. 


*'^''-^-  EXCUBSION    TO    GREENWrCH.  365 

We  landed  at  the  Old  Swan,  and  walked  to  Billingsgate,  where 
we  took  oars  and  moved  smoothly  along  the  silver  Thames.  It  was  a 
very  fine  day.  We  were  entertained  with  the  immense  number  and 
variety  of  ships  that  were  lying  at  anchor,  and  with  the  beautiful 
country  on  each  side  of  the  river. 

I  talked  of  preaching,  and  of  the  great  success  which  those  called 
Methodists  *  have.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  owing  to  their  expressing 
themselves  in  a  plain  and  familiar  manner,  which  is  the  only  way  to 
do  good  to  the  common  people,  and  which  clergymen  of  genius  and 
learning  ought  to  do  from  a  principle  of  duty,  when  it  is  suited  to 
their  congregations  ;  a  practice  for  which  they  will  be  praised  by 
men  of  sense.  To  insist  against  drunkenness  as  a  crime,  because  it 
debases  reason,  the  noblest  faculty  of  man,  would  be  of  no  service 
to  the  common  people  :  but  to  tell  them  that  they  may  die  in  a  fit 
of  drunkenness,  and  show  them  how  dreadful  that  would  be,  cannot 
fail  to  make  a  deep  impression.  Sir,  when  your  Scotch  clergy  give 
up  their  homely  manner,  religion  will  soon  decay  in  that  country." 
Let  this  observation,  as  Johnson  meant  it,  be  ever  remembered. 

'  All  who  are  acquainted  with  the  history  of  religion,  (the  most  important,  surely,  that  con 
cerns  the  human  mind,)  know  tliat  the  appellation  of  Methodists  was  first  given  to  a  societj 
of  students  in  the  University  of  Oxford,  who,  about  the  year  1780,  were  distinguished  by  ai> 
earnest  and  methodical  attention  to  devout  exercises.  This  disposition  of  mind  is  not  a 
novelty,  or  peculiar  to  any  sect,  but  has  been,  and  still  may  be,  found  in  many  Christians  of 
every  denomination.  Johnson  himself  was,  in  a  dignified  manner,  a  niethodist.  In  his  Ram- 
bler, No.  110,  he  mentions  with  respect  "  the  whole  discipline  of  regulated  piety"  and  in  his 
"  Prayers  and  Meditations,"  many  instances  occur  of  his  anxious  examination  into  his  spirit- 
ual state.  That  this  religious  earnestness,  and  in  particular  an  observation  of  the  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  has  sometimes  degenerated  into  folly,  and  sometimes  been  counterfeited 
for  base  purposes,  cannot  be  denied.  But  it  is  not,  therefore,  fair  to  decry  it  when  genuine. 
The  principal  argument,  in  reason  and  good  sense,  against  methodism  is,  that  it  tends  to 
debase  human  nature,  and  prevent  the  generous  exertions  of  goodness,  by  an  unwortliy  sup- 
position that  God  will  pay  no  regard  to  them ;  although  it  is  positively  said  in  the  Scriptures 
that  he  "  will  regard  every  man  according  to  his  works."  But  I  am  happy  to  have  it  in  my 
power  to  do  justice  to  those  whom  it  is  the  fashion  to  ridicule,  without  any  knowledge  of  their 
tenets ;  and  this  T  can  do  by  quoting  a  passage  from  one  of  their  best  apologists,  Mr.  Milner 
who  thus  expresse';  their  doctrine  upon  this  subject: — "Justified  by  faith,  renewed  in  his 
faculties,  and  constrained  by  the  love  of  Christ,  the  believer  moves  in  the  sphere  of  love  and 
gratitude,  anc'  all  his  diiiies  flow  more  or  less  from  this  principle.  And  though  iliey  an 
accumulating  for  ?iim,  in  heaven  a  treasure  ofhlissxiroportioned  to  his  faithfulness  and 
activity^  and  it  is  by  no  means  inconsistent  with  his  principles  to  feel  the  force  of  thi» 
conoid e^ration,  yet  love  itself  sweetens  every  duty  to  his  mind ;  and  he  thinks  there  is  no  ab- 
mrdity  in  his  feeling  the  iDve  of  God  as  the  grand  commanding  principle  of  his  life." — Essays 
on  religious  Sutjects,  Ac,  by  Joseph  Milner,  A.M.,  Master  of  the  Grammar  School  of  Kingston 
»P9U-Hull,  17S9,p.  11.— B. 


B66  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


ir«8. 


I  was  much  pleased  to  find  myself  with  Johuson  at  Greenwich, 
which  he  celebrates  ia  his  "  Loudon  "  as  a  favourite  scene,  I  had  the 
poem  in  my  pocket,  and  read  the  hues  aloud  with  enthusiasm  : 

"^Ou  Thames's  banks  in  silent  thought  we  stood, 
Where  Greenwich  smiles  upon  the  silver  flood : 
Pleased  with  the  seat  which  gave  Eliza  birth, 
We  kneel  and  kiss  the  consecrated  earth." 

He  remarked  that  the  structure  of  Greenwich  Hospital  was  loo 
magnificent  for  a  place  of  charity,  and  that  its  parts  were  too  much 
detached  to  make  one  great  whole. 

Buchanan,  he  said,  was  a  very  fine  poet  ; '  and  observed,  that  he 
was  the  first  who  complimented  a  lady,  by  ascribing  to  her  the  dif- 
ferent perfections  of  the  heathen  goddesses  ;'''  but  that  Johnstone  * 
improved  upon  this,  by  making  his  lady,  at  the  same  time,  free  from 
their  defects. 

He  dwelt  upon  Buchanan's  elegant  verses  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
Nympha  Caledonia,  &c.,  and  spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  the  beauty 
of  Latin  verse.  "  All  the  modern  languages,"  said  he,  "  cannot  fur- 
uish  so  melodious  a  line  as — 

'  Formosam  resonare  doces  Amarillida  silvas.'' " 

Afterwards  he  entered  upon  the  business  of  the  day,  which  was  to 
give  me  his  advice  as  to  a  course  of  study.  And  here  I  am  to  men- 
tion, with  much  regret,  that  my  record  of  what  he  said  is  miserably 
scanty.  I  recollect  with  admiration  an  animating  blaze  of  eloquence, 
which  roused  every  intellectual  power  in  me  to  the  highest  pitch, 
but  must  have  dazzled  me  so  much,  that  my  memory  could  not  pre- 
serve the  substance  of  his  discourse  ;  for  the  note  which  I  find  of  it 
is  no  more  than  this  :  "  He  ran  over  the  grand  scale  of  human 
knowledge  ;  advised  me  to  select  some  particular  branch  to  excel 
in,  but  to  acquire  a  little  of  every  kind."  The  defect  of  my  minutes 
will  be  fully  supplied  by  a  long  letter  upon  the  subject,  which  he^ 

■  Epigram,  Lib.  II.  "  In  Elizabeth,  Anglias  Reg." — I  suspect  that  the  author's  memory  here 
deceived  him,  and  that  Johnson  said,  "the  first  modern  poet;"  for  there  is  a  well-linown 
Epigram  in  the  "  Anthologia,"  containing  this  kind  of  eulogy.— M. 

^  Arthur  Johnstone,  born  near  Aberdeen  in  1587,  an  elegant  Latin  poet.  His  principaJ 
works  are  a  volume  of  epigrams  (in  wliich  is  to  be  found  that  to  which  Dr.  Johnson  alludes^ 
and  a  Latin  par,ai)hruse  of  the  Tsalms.     He  died  at  Oxford  in  1641.— C. 


aiTAT.  54.  GREENWICH    PARK.  361 

favoured  me  with,  after  I  had  been  some  time  at  Utrecht,  aud 
which  my  readers  will  have  the  pleasure  to  peruse  in  its  proper 
place. 

We  walked  in  the  evening  in  Greenwich  Park.  He  asked  me,  I 
suppose  by  way  of  trying  my  disposition,  "  Is  not  this  very  fine  ?" 
Having  no  exquisite  relish  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  being  more 
delighted  with  the  "  busy  hum  of  men,"  I  answered,  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  but 
not  equal  to  Fleet-street.'?     Johnson.  "  You  are  right,  Sir  ?" 

I  am  aware  that  many  of  my  readers  may  censure  my  want  of  taste. 
Let  me,  however,  shelter  myself  under  the  authority  of  a  very  fash- 
ionable Baronet  ^  in  the  brilliant  world,  who,  on  his  attention  being 
called  to  the  fragrance  of  a  May  evening  in  the  country,  observed, 
"  This  may  be  very  well  ;  but  for  my  part,  I  prefer  the  smell  of  a 
flambeau  at  the  playhouse." 

We  staid  so  long  at  Greenwich,  that  our  sail  up  the  river,  in  our 
return  to  London,  was  by  no  means  so  pleasant  as  in  the  morning  ; 
for  the  night  air  was  so  cold  that  it  made  me  shiver.  I  was  the 
more  sensible  of  it  from  having  sat  up  all  the  night  before  recollect- 
ing aud  writing  in  my  Journal  what  I  thought  worthy  of  preserva- 
tion ;  an  exertion  which,  during  the  first  part  of  my  acquaintance 
with  Johnson,  I  frequently  made.  I  remember  having  sat  up  four 
nights  in  one  week,  without  being  much  incommoded  in  the  day- 
time. 

Johnson,  whose  robust  frame  was  not  in  the  least  affected  by  the 
cold,  scolded  me,  as  if  my  shivering  had  been  a  paltry  effeminacy, 
saying,  "  Why  do  you  shiver  ?"  Sir  William  Scott,^  of  the  Com- 
mons, told  me,  that  when  he  complained  of  a  headach  in  the  post- 
chaise,  as  they  were  travelling  together  to  Scotland,  Johnson  treated 
him  in  the  same  manner  :  "  At  your  age.  Sir,  I  had  no  hoadach." 
It  is  not  easy  to  make  allowance  for  sensations  in  others,  which  we 
ourselves  have  not  at  the  tima  We  must  all  have  experienced  how 
very  differently  we  are  affected  by  the  complaints  of  our  neighbours 

'  My  friend  Sir  Michael  Le  Fleming.  This  gentleman,  with  all  his  experience  of  sprightly 
and  elegant  life,  inherits,  with  the  beautiful  family  domain,  no  inconsiderable  share  of  that 
l3V(,  of  literature,  which  distinguished  his  venerable  grandfather  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle.  He 
one  day  observed  to  me,  of  Dr.  Johnson,  in  a  felicity  of  phrase,  "There  is  a  blunt  dignity 
about  him  on  every  occasion." — B. 

^  Now  Lord  Stowell,  who  accompanied  Dr.  Johnson  from  Newcastle  to  Kdinburgb  19 
IT78.— C. 


368  LIFE   OF    JOHNSON.  17« 

when  we  are  well  and  whea  we  are  ill.  In  full  health,  we  can 
scarcely  believe  that  they  suffer  much  ;  so  faint  is  the  image  of  pain 
upon  our  imagination  :  when  softened  by  sickness,  we  readily  sym- 
pathise with  the  sufferings  of  others. 

We  concluded  the  day  at  the  Turk's  Head  coffee-house  very 
socially.  He  was  pleased  to  listen  to  a  particular  account  which  I 
gave  him  of  my  family,  and  of  its  hereditary  estate,  as  to  the  extent 
and  population  of  which  he  asked  questions,  and  made  calculations  ; 
recommending,  at  the  same  time,  a  liberal  kindness  to  the  tenantry, 
as  people  over  whom  the  proprietor  was  placed  by  Providence.  He 
took  delight  in  hearing  my  description  of  the  romantic  seat  of  ray 
ancestors.  "  I  must  be  there.  Sir,"  said  he,  "  and  we  will  live  in  the 
old  castle  ;  and  if  there  is  not  a  room  in  it  remaining,  we  will  build 
one,"  I  was  highly  flattered,  but  could  scarcely  indulge  a  hope  that 
Auchinleck  would  indeed  be  honoured  by  his  presence,  and  cele- 
brated by  a  description,  as  it  afterwards  was,  in  his  "  Journey  to 
the  Western  Islands." 

After  we  had  again  talked  of  my  setting  out  for  Holland,  he 
said,  "  I  must  see  thee  out  of  England  ;  I  will  accompany  you 
to  Harwich."  I  could  not  find  words  to  express  what  I  felt 
upon  this  unexpected  and  very  great  mark  of  his  affectionate 
regard.' 

Next  day,  Sunday,  July  31,  I  told  him  I  had  been  that  morning 
at  a  meeting  of  the  people  called  Quakers,  where  I  had  heard  a 
woman  preach.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  a  woman  preaching  is  like  a  dog's 
walking  on  his  hind  legs.  It  is  not  done  well ;  but  you  are  sur- 
prised to  find  it  done  at  all." 

On  Tuesday,  August  2,  (the  day  of  my  departure  from  London 
having  been  fixed  for  the  5th,)  Dr.  Johnson  did  me  the  honour  to 
pass  a  part  of  the  morning  with  me  at  my  chambers.  He  said,  that 
"  lie  always  felt  an  inclination  to  do  nothing."  I  observed,  that  it 
was  strange  to  think  that  the  most  indolent  mas  in  Britain  had 
written  the  most  laborious  work.  The  English  Dictionary. 

I  mentioned  an  imprudent  publication,  by  a  certain  friend  of  his, 
at  an  early  period  of  life,  and  asked  him  if  he  thought  it  would  hurt 

'  Boswell  had  first  met  Johnson  only  ten  weeks  before  this  time,  viz.  on  the  16th  of  %ns,m 
Markland. 


^^-^^^  ^  HIS    "  WALK  " THE    CONVOCATION.  369 

him.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  not  much.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  men- 
tioned at  an  election."  ' 

I  had  now  made  good  my  title  to  be  a  privileged  man,  and  was 
carried  by  him  in  the  evening  to  drink  tea  with  Miss  Williams, 
whom,  though  under  the  misfortune  of  having  lost  her  sight,  I  found 
to  be  agreeable  in  conversation  ;  for  she  had  a  variety  of  literature. 
and  expressed  herself  well  ;  but  her  pecuUar  value  was  the  intimacy 
in  which  she  had  long  lived  with  Johnson,  by  which  she  was  well 
acquainted  with  his  habits,  and  knew  how  to  lead  him  on  to  talk. 

After  tea  he  carried  me  to  what  he  called  his  walk,  which  was  a 
long  narrow  paved  court  in  the  neighbourhood,  overshadowed  bj 
some  trees.  There  we  sauntered  a  considerable  time  ;  and  1  com- 
plained to  him  that  my  love  of  London  and  of  his  company  was 
such,  that  I  shrunk  almost  from  the  thought  of  going  away  even  to 
travel,  which  is  generally  so  much  desired  by  young  men.  Ht 
roused  me  by  manly  and  spirited  conversation.  He  advised  me, 
when  settled  in  any  place  abroad,  to  study  with  an  eagerness  after 
knowledge,  and  to  apply  to  Greek  an  hour  every  day  ;  and  when  I 
was  moving  about,  to  read  diligently  the  great  book  of  mankind. 

On  Wednesday,  August  3,  we  had  our  last  social  evening  at  the 
Turk's  Head  coffee-house,  before  my  setting  out  for  foreign  parts.  I 
had  the  misfortune,  before  we  parted,  to  irritate  him  unintentionally. 
I  mentioned  to  him  how  common  it  was  in  the  world  to  tell  absurd 
stories  of  him,  and  to  ascribe  to  him  very  strange  sayings,  John- 
son. "  What  do  they  make  me  say,  Sir  ?"  Boswell.  "  Why,  Sir, 
as  an  instance  very  strange  indeed  (laughing  heartily  as  I  spoke), 
David  Hume  told  me,  you  said  that  you  would  stand  before  a  bat- 
tery of  cannon  to  restore  the  Convocation  to  its  full  powers." 
Little  did  I  apprehend  that  he  had  actually  said  this  :  but  I  was 
soon  convinced  of  my  error  ;  for,  with  a  determined  look,  he  thun- 

1  This  probably  alludes  to  Mr.  Burke's  "  Vindication  of  Natural  Society,"  a  work  published 
In  1756,  in  a  happy  imitation  of  Lord  Bolingbroke"9  style,  and  in  an  ironical  adoption  of  his 
principles:  the  whole  was  so  well  done,  that  it  at  first  passed  as  a  genuine  work  of  Lord 
Bolingbroke's,  and  subsequently  as  a  serious  and  (as  in  style  and  imagery  it  certainly  is) 
splendid  exposition  of  the  principles  of  one  of  his  disciples.  Lord  Chesterfield  and  Bishop 
Warburton  are  stated  to  have  been  so  deceived  ;  and  it  would  seem,  from  the  passage  ■•'  the 
text,  that  Johnson  and  Boswell  were  in  the  same  error.  In  1765,  Mr.  Burke  reprintaJ  Uiis 
piece,  with  a  preface,  in  which  he  throws  off  altogether  the  mask  of  irony.  Mr.  Bosweli  calJi 
rjiD  )  friend  of  Johnaon'a,  for  he  himself  had  not  yet  met  Mr.  Burke. — C. 

J6* 


ilO  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

dered  out,  "Aud  would  I  uot,  Sir?  Shall  tlte  Presbyterian  kirk  of 
Scotland  have  its  General  Assembly,  and  the  Church  of  England  be 
denied  its  Convocation  ?"  He  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room, 
while  I  told  him  the  anecdote  ;  but  when  he  uttered  this  explosion 
of  high-church  zeal,  he  came  close  to  my  chair,  and  his  eyes  flashed 
with  indignation.  I  bowed  to  the  storm,  and  diverted  the  force  of 
it,  by  leading  him  to  expiate  on  the  influence  which  religion  derived 
from  maintaining  the  church  with  great  external  respectability. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  he  this  year  wrote  "The  liife  of 
Ascham,"f  and  the  Dedication  to  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,f  prefixed 
to  the  edition  of  that  writer's  English  works,  published  by  Mr. 
Bennet.' 

On  Friday,  August  5,  we  set  out  early  in  the  morning  in  the  Har- 
wich stage-coach.  A  fat  elderly  gentlewoman,  and  a  young  Dutch- 
man, seemed  the  most  inclined  among  us  to  conversation.  At  the 
inn  where  we  dined,  the  gentlewoman  said  she  had  done  her  best  to 
educate  her  children  ;  and  particularly,  that  she  had  never  suff'ered 
them  to  be  a  moment  idle.  Johnson.  "  I  wish.  Madam,  you  would 
educate  me  too  :  for  I  have  been  an  idle  fellow  all  my  life."  "  I  am 
sure.  Sir,"  said  she,  "  you  have  not  been  idle."  Johnson.  "  Nay, 
Madam,  it  is  very  true  ;  and  that  gentleman  there,"  pointing  to  me, 
"  has  been  idle.  He  was  idle  at  Edinburgh.  His  father  sent  him 
to  Glasgow,  where  he  continued  to  be  idle.  He  then  came  to  Lon- 
don,^ where  he  has  been  very  idle  ;  and  now  he  is  going  to  Utrecht, 
where  he  will  be  as  idle  as  ever."  I  asked  him  privately  how  he 
could  expose  me  so.  Johnson.  "  Poh,  poh  1 "  said  he,  "  they  knew 
nothing  about  you,  and  will  think  of  it  no  more."  In  the  afternoon 
the  gentlewoman  talked  violently  against  the  Roman  Catholics,  and  of 
the  horrors  of  the  Inquisition.  To  the  utter  astonishment  of  all  the 
passengers  but  myself,  who  knew  that  he  could  talk  upon  any  side  of 
a  question,  he  defended  the  Inquisition,  and  maintained,  that  "  false 
doctrine  should  be  checked  on  its  first  appearance  ;  that  the  civil 
power  should  unite  with  the  church  in  punishing  those  who  dare  to 

■  Johnson  was,  in  fact,  the  editor  of  this  work,  as  appears  from  a  letter  of  Mr.  T.  Davies  to 
the  Rev.  Edm.  Bettesworth : — "  Reverend  Sir,^ — I  take  the  liberty  to  send  you  Roger  Ascham's 
works  in  English.  Though  Mr.  Eennet's  name  is  in  the  title,  the  editor  in  reality  was  Mr, 
Johnson,  the  author  of  the  Rambler,  who  wrote  the  life  of  the  author,  iind  added  several  notes 
&Jr.  Johnson  gave  it  to  Mr.  Bennet,  for  his  advantage,"  &c. — C. 


*■''*■'  ^  JOURNEY   TO    HARWICH.  371 

fittack  the  established  religion,  and  that  such  only  «ere  punished  by 
the  Inquisition."  He  bad  iu  his  pocket  "  Pompov,ius  Mela  de  Situ 
Orbis,"  in  which  he  read  occasionally,  and  seemed  very  intent  upon 
ancient  geography.  Though  by  no  means  niggardly,  his  attention 
to  what  was  generally  right  was  so  minute,  that  having  observed  at 
one  of  the  stages  that  I  ostentatiously  gave  a  shilling  to  the  coach 
man,  when  the  custom  was  for  each  passenger  to  give  only  sixpence, 
he  took  me  aside  and  scolded  me,  saying  that  what  I  had  done  would 
make  the  coachman  dissatisfied  with  all  the  rest  of  the  passengers, 
who  gave  him  no  more  than  his  due.  This  was  a  just  reprimand  ;  for 
in  whatever  way  a  man  may  indulge  his  generosity  or  his  vanity  in 
spending  his  money,  for  the  sake  of  others  he  ought  not  to  raise  the 
price  of  any  article  for  which  there  is  a  constant  demand. 

He  talked  of  Mr.  Blacklock's  *  poetry,  so  far  as  it  was  descriptive 
of  visible  objects  ;  and  observed,  that,  "  as  its  author  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  blind,  we  may  be  absolutely  sure  that  such  passages 
are  combinations  of  what  he  has  remembered  of  the  works  of  other 
waiters  who  could  see.  That  foolish  fellow,  Spence,  has  laboured  to 
explain  philosophically  bow  Blacklock  may  have  done,  by  means  of 
his  own  faculties,  what  it  is  impossible  he  should  do.  The  solution, 
as  I  have  given  it,  is  plain.  Suppose,  I  know  a  man  to  be  so  lame 
that  he  is  absolutely  incapable  to  move  himself,  and  I  find  him  in  a 
different  room  from  that  in  which  I  left  him  ;  shall  I  puzzle  myself 
with  idle  conjectures,  that,  perhaps,  his  nerves  have  by  some  un- 
known change  all  at  once  become  effective  ?  No,  Sir,  it  is  clear 
how  he  got  into  a  different  room  ;  he  was  airried." 

Having  stopped  a  night  at  Colchester,  Johnson  talked  of  that 
town  with  veneration,  for  having  stood  a  siege  for  Charles  the  First. 
The  Dutchman  alone  now  remained  with  us.  He  spoke  English  tole- 
rably well  ;  and,  thinking  to  recommend  himself  to  us  by  expatiating 
on  the  superiority  of  the  criminal  jurisprudence  of  this  country  over 
that  of  Holland,  he  inveighed  against  the  barbarity  of  putting  an 
accused  person  to  the  torture,  in  order  to  force  a  confession.  But 
Johnson  was  as  ready  for  this,  as  for  the  inquisition.  "Why,  Sir, 
you  do  not,  I  find,  understand  the  law  of  your  own  country.     To 

'  Doctor  Thom.is  Blacklock  was  born  in  1721 :  he  totally  lost  his  sight  by  the    small  pox  at 
i,be  age  of  six  years,  but  was,  nevertheless,  a  descriptive  poet.     He  died  iu  1791, 


3t^  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOK.  '^^ 

torture  in  Holland  is  considered  as  a  favour  to  an  accused  person  ; 
for  no  man  is  put  to  the  torture  there,  unless  there  is  as  much  evi- 
dence against  him  as  would  amount  to  conviction  in  England.  An 
accused  person  among  you,  therefore,  has  one  chance  more  to  escape 
punishment,  than  those  who  are  tried  among  us." 

At  supper  this  night  he  talked  of  good  eating  with  uncommon 
satisfaction.  "  Some  people,"  said  he,  "  have  a  foolish  way  of  not 
minding,  or  pretending  not  to  mind,  what  they  eat.  For  my  part, 
I  mind  'my  belly  very  studiously,  and  very  carefully  ;  for  I  look 
upon  it,  that  he  who  does  not  mind  his  belly  will  hardly  mind  any- 
thing else."  He  now  appeared  to  me  Jmn  Bull  philosophe,  and  he  was 
for  the  moment,  not  only  serious  but  vehement.  Yet  I  have  heard 
him,  upon  other  occasions,  talk  with  great  contempt  of  people  who 
were  anxious  to  gratify  their  palates  ;  and  the  206th  number  of  his 
Rambler  is  a  masterly  essay  against  gulosity.  His  practice,  indeed, 
I  must  acknowledge,  may  be  considered  as  casting  the  balance  of 
his  different  opinions  upon  this  subject  ;  for  I  never  knew  any  man 
who  relished  good  eating  more  than  he  did.  When  at  table,  he 
was  totally  absorbed  in  the  business  of  the  moment  :  his  looks 
seemed  riveted  to  his  plate  ;  nor  would  he,  unless  when  in  very 
high  company,  say  one  word,  or  even  pay  the  least  attention  to 
what  was  said  by  others,  till  he  had  satisfied  his  appetite  ;  which 
was  so  fierce,  and  indulged  with  such  intcnseness,  that,  while  in  the 
act  of  eating,  the  veins  of  his  forehead  swelled,  and  generally  a 
strong  perspiration  was  visible.  To  those  whose  sensations  were 
delicate,  this  could  not  but  be  disgusting ;  and  it  was  doubtless  not 
very  suitable  to  the  character  of  a  philosopher,  who  should  be  dis- 
tinguished by  self-command.  But  it  must  be  owned,  that  Johnson, 
though  he  could  be  rigidly  abstemious,  was  not  a  temperate  man  either 
in  eating  or  drinking.  He  could  refrain,  but  he  could  not  use  mo- 
derately. He  told  me,  that  he  had  fasted  two  days  without  incon- 
venience, and  that  he  had  never  been 'hungry  but  once.  They  who  be- 
held with  wonder  how  much  he  eat  upon  all  occasions,  when  his  din- 
ner was  to  his  taste,  could  not  easily  conceive  what  he  must  have 
meant  by  hunger  ;  and  not  only  was  he  remarkable  for  the  extraordi- 
nary quantity  which  he  eat,  but  he  was,  or  affected  to  be,  a  man  of 
very  nice  discernment  in  the  science  of  cookery.     He  used  to  descani 


^E'TA*.  M.  ASgfiJfENCfi    AND   TEMPERANCE,  3t^ 

critically  on  the  dishes  which  had  been  at  table  where  he  had  dined 
or  supped,  and  to  recollect  very  minutely  what  he  had  liked.  I  re- 
member  when  he  was  in  Scotland,  his  praising  GordovUs  palates  (a 
dish  of  palates  at  the  Honourable  Alexander  Gordon's)  with  a 
warmth  of  expression  which  might  have  done  honour  to  more  im- 
portant subjects.  "  As  for  Maclaurin's  imitation  of  a  made  dish,  it 
was  a  wretched  attempt."  He  about  the  same  time  was  so  much 
displeased  with  the  performances  of  a  nobleman's  French  cook,  that 
he  exclaimed  with  vehemence,  "  I'd  throw  such  a  rascal  into  the 
river  ;"  and  he  then  proceeded  to  alarm  a  lady  at  whose  house  he 
was  to  sup,  by  the  following  manifesto  of  his  skill  ;  "  I,  Madam,  who 
live  at  a  variety  of  good  tables,  am  a  much  better  judge  of  cookery 
than  any  person  who  has  a  very  tolerable  cook,  but  lives  much  at 
home  ;  for  his  palate  is  gradually  adapted  to  the  taste  of  his  cook  ; 
whereas,  Madam,  in  trying  by  a  wider  range,  I  can  more  exquisitely 
judge."  When  invited  to  dine,  even  with  an  intimate  friend,  he 
was  not  pleased  if  something  better  than  a  plain  dinner  was  not  pre- 
pared for  him.  I  have  heard  him  say  on  such  an  occasion,  "  This 
was  a  good  dinner  enough,  to  be  sure  ;  but  it  was  not  a  dinner  to  ask 
a  man  to."  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  wont  to  express,  with  great 
glee,  his  satisfaction  when  he  had  been  entertained  quite  to  his  mind. 
One  day  when  he  had  dined  with  his  neighbour  and  landlord  in  Bolt 
Court,  Mr.  Allen,'  the  printer,  whose  old  housekeeper  had  studied 
his  taste  in  everything,  he  pronounced  this  eulogy  :  "  Sir,  we  could 
not  have  had  a  better  dinner,  had  there  been  a  Synod  of  Cooks"  * 

'  Edward  Allen  was  a  very  excellent  printer  in  Bolt  Court.  His  office  united  to  Johnson's 
dwelling.    He  died  in  17S0. — Nichols. 

■■^  Johnson's  notions  about  eating,  however,  were  nothing  less  than  delicate ;  a  leg  of  porlc 
boiled  till  it  dropped  from  the  hone,  a  veal  pie  with  plums  and  sugar,  or  the  outside  cut  of  a 
Bait  buttock  of  beef,  were  his  favourite  dainties ;  with  regard  to  drink,  his  liking  was  for  the 
Btrongest,  as  it  was  not  the  flavour,  but  the  effect  he  sought  for,  and  professed  to  desire  ;  and 
when  I  first  knew  him,  he  used  to  pour  capillaire  into  his  port  wine.  For  the  last  twelve  years, 
however,  he  left  off  all  fermented  liquors.  To  make  himself  some  amends,  indeed,  he  took  his 
chocolate  liberally,  pouring  in  large  quantities  of  cream,  or  even  melted  butter ;  and  was  so 
fond  of  fruit,  that  though  he  would  eat  seven  or  eight  large  peaches  of  a  morning  before 
breakfast  began,  and  treated  them  with  proportionate  attention  after  dinner  again,  yet  I  have 
heard  him  protest,  that  he  never  had  quite  as  much  as  he  wished  of  wall  fruit,  except  once  in 
his  life,  and  that  was  when  we  were  all  together  at  Ombersley,  the  seat  of  my  Lord  Sandy's ; 
and  yet  when  his  Irish  friend  Orierson,  hearing  him  enumerate  the  qualities  necessary  to  the 
Jormation  of  a  poet,  began  a  comical  parody  upon  his  ornamented  harangue  in  praise  of  a 
cook,  concluding  with  this  observation,  that  he  who  dressed  a  good  dinner  was  a  more  excel- 
lent and  a  more  useful  member  o'  soc'ety  than  he  who  wrote  a  good  poem.     'And  in  thlj 


^74  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

While  we  were  left  by  ourselves,  after  the  Dutchman  had  gone  to 
bed,  Dr.  Johnson  talked  of  that  studied  behaviour  which  many  have 
recommended  and  practised.  He  disapproved  of  it,  and  said,  "  1 
never  consider  whether  I  should  be  a  grave  man,  or  a  merry  man, 
but  just  let  inclination,  for  the  time,  have  its  course." 

He  flattered  me  with  some  hopes  that  he  would,  in  the  course  of 
the  following  summer,  come  over  to  Holland,  and  accompany  me  in 
a  tour  through  the  Netherlands. 

I  teased  him  with  fanciful  apprehensions  of  unhappiness.  A  moth 
having  fluttered  round  the  candle,  and  burnt  itself,  he  laid  hold  of 
this  little  incident  to  admonish  me  ;  saying,  with  a  sly  look,  and  in  a 
eolemn  but  a  quiet  tone,  "  That  creature  was  its  own  tormentor,  and 
I  believe  its  name  was  Boswell." 

Next  day  we  got  to  Harwich  to  dinner  ;  and  my  passage  in  the 
packet  boat  to  Helvoetsluys  being  secured,  and  my  bs^ggoge  pat  tn 
board,  we  dined  at  our  inn  by  ourselves,  I  happened  to  say,  it 
would  be  terrible  if  he  should  not  find  a  speedy  oj^portunity  of  re- 
turning to  London,  and  be  confined  in  so  dull  a  place.  Johnson. 
"  Don't,  Sir,  accustom  yourself  to  use  big  words  for  little  matters.' 
[t  would  not  be  terrible,  though  I  were  to  be  detained  some  time 
here."  The  practice  of  using  words  of  disproportionate  magnitude 
is,  no  doubt,  too  frequent  every  where  ;  but,  I  think,  most  remark- 
able among  the  French,  of  which,  all  who  have  travelled  in  France 
must  have  been  struck  with  innumerable  instances. 

We  went  and  looked  at  the  church,  and  having  gone  into  it  and 

opinion,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  in  reply,  "all  the  dogs  in  the  town  will  join  you."  He  loved  hi» 
dinner  exceedingly,  and  has  often  said  in  my  hearing,  perhaps  for  my  edification,  "  that 
wherever  the  dinner  is  ill  got  up  there  is  poverty  or  there  is  avarice,  or  there  is  stupidity ;  in 
short,  the  family  is  somehow  grossly  wrong:  for,"  continued  he,  "a  man  seldom  thinks  with 
more  earnestness  of  anything  than  he  does  of  his  dinner ;  and  if  he  cannot  get  that  well 
dressed,  he  should  he  suspected  of  inaccuracj-  in  other  things."  One  day,  when  he  was  speak 
Ing  upon  the  subject,  I  asked  him  if  he  ever  huffed  his  wife  about  his  dinner?  "So  often," 
replied  he,  "that  at  last  she  called  to  me,  when  about  to  say  grace,  and  said,  'Nay,  hold, 
Mr.  Johnson,  and  do  not  make  a  farce  of  thanking  God  for  a  dinner  which,  in  a  few  minutes, 
you  will  pronounce  not  eatable.'  " — Piozzi. 

'  This  advice  comes  droUy  from  the  writer,  who  makes  a  young  lady  talk  of  "the  cosmetic 
discipline,^''  "  a  regular  hisiraiio7i  with  bean-flower  water,  and  the  use  of  a  pommade  to  dis- 
ciiss  pimples  and  cleur  discoloration'''  (Rambler,  No.  180);  while  a  young  gentleman  tells 
us  of  "  the  flaccid  sides  of  a  foot-ball  having  swelled  out  into  stiffness  and  extension."  (No. 
117.)  And  it  is  equally  amusing  to  find  Mr.  Boswell,  after  his  various  defences  of  Johnson's 
f/randiloquence,  attacking  the  little  inflations  of  French  conversation ;  straining  at  a  grat 
after  having  swallowed  a  caraeL — C 


Etat.  54. 


BERKELEY    "  REFUTED  " BURKE.  315 


walked  up  to  the  altar,  Johnson,  whose  piety  was  constant  and  fer- 
vent, sent  me  to  my  knees,  saying,  "  Now  that  you  are  going  to 
leave  your  native  country,  recommend  yourself  to  the  protection  of 
your  Creator  and  Redeemer." 

After  we  came  out  of  the  church,  we  stood  talking  for  some  time 
together  of  Bishop  Berkeley's  ingenious  sophistry  to  prove  the  non- 
existence of  matter,  and  that  every  thing  in  the  universe  is  merely 
ideal.  I  observed,  that  though  we  are  satisfied  his  doctrine  is  not 
true,  it  is  impossible  to  refute  it.  I  never  shall  forget  the  alacrity 
with  which  Johnson  answered,  striking  his  foot  with  mighty  force 
against  a  large  stone,  till  he  rebounded  from  it,  "  I  refute  it  thus."  ' 
This  was  a  stout  exemplification  of  the  firsi  truths  of  Pere  Bouffkr, 
or  the  original  principles  of  Reid  and  of  Beattie  ;  without  admitting- 
which,  we  can  no  more  argue  in  metaphysics,  than  we  can  argue  iu 
metaphysics  without  axioms.  To  me  it  is  not  conceivable  how 
Berkeley  can  be  answered  by  pure  reasoning  ;  but  I  know  that  the 
nice  and  difficult  task  was  to  have  been  undertaken  by  one  of  the 
most  luminous  minds  ^  of  the  present  age,  had  not  politics  "  turned 
him  from  calm  philosophy  aside."  What  an  admirable  displa,y  of 
subtlety,  united  with  briUiance,  might  his  contending  with  Berkeley 
have  afforded  us  !  How  must  we,  when  we  reflect  on  the  loss  of 
such  an  intellectual  feast,  regret  that  he  should  be  characterised  as 
the  man — 

"  Who,  born  for  the  universe,  narrow'd  his  mind, 

And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind  ?" 

My  reverend  friend  walked  down  with  me  to  the  beach,  where 
we  embraced  and  parted  with  tenderness,  and  engaged  to  correspond 

1  Dr.  Johnson  seems  to  have  been  imperfectly  acquainted  with  Berkeley's  doctrine  ;  as  liia 
experiment  only  proves  that  we  have  the  sensation  of  solidity,  which  Berkeley  did  not  deny. 
He  admitted  that  we  had  sensations  or  ideas  that-  are  usually  called  sensible  qualities,  one 
of  which  is  solidity  ;  he  only  denied  the  existence  oi mutter,  i.  e.,  an  inert  senseless  substance, 
in  which  they  are  supposed  to  subsist.  Johnson's  exemplification  concurs  with  the  vulgar 
notion,  that  sohdity  is  matter. — Kkarnky.  [When  Zeno  argued,  that  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  motion,  Diogenes  walked  across  the  room.  Johnson's  argument  is  in  the  same  style,  but 
uot  so  satisfactory. — Fonnehbau.] 

•i  Mr.  Burke.— C. 

3  In  tlio  latter  years  of  his  life,  Mr.  Burke  reversed  tho  conduct  which  Goldsmith  so  ele- 
gantly reprehends  and  gave  up  parti/  for  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  good  of  mijin- 
kind.—C. 


376  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  "^ 

by  letters.  I  said,  "  I  hope,  Sir,  you  will  not  forget  me  in  my  ab- 
sence." Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  it  is  more  likely  that  you  should 
forget  me,  than  that  I  should  forget  you."  As  the  vessel  put  out 
to  sea,  I  kept  my  eye's  upon  him  for  a  considerable  time,  w"  ile  he 
remained  rolling  his  majestic  frame  in  his  usual  manner  ;  and  ;t  last 
I  perceived  him  walk  back  into  the  town,  and  he  disappeare 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
1163— lt65. 

Boswell  at  Utrecht -Letter  from  Johnson— The  Frisick  Language — Johnson's  Visit  to  Lanf- 
ton— Institution  of  "  The  Club  "—Reynolds— Garrick— Dr.  Nugent— Granger's  "  Sugar 
Cane  " — Hyjiochondriac  Attack— Days  of  Abstraction — Odd  Habits — Visit  to  Dr.  Percy- 
Letter  to  Reynolds— Visit  to  Cambridge— Self-e.xaraination — Letter  to,  and  from,  Garrick — 
Johnson  created  LL.D.  by  Dublin  University — Letter  to  Dr.  Leland — Prayer  on  "  Engaging 
in  Politics  " — William  Gerard  Hamilton. 

Utrecht  seeming  at  first  very  dull  to  me,  after  the  animated  scenes 
of  London,  my  spirits  were  grievously  affected  ;  and  I  wrote  to 
Johnson  a  plaintive  and  desponding  letter,  to  which  he  paid  no  re- 
gard. Afterwards,  when  I  had  acquired  a  firmer  tone  of  mind,  I 
wrote  him  a  second  letter,  expressing  much  anxiety  to  hear  from 
him.  At  length  I  received  the  following  epistle,  which  was  of  im- 
portant service  to  me,  and,  I  trust,  will  be  so  to  many  others. 

Letter  87.  A.  M.  M.  BOSWELL, 

A  la  Cour  de  VEmpereur,  Utrecht. 

"  London,  Dec.  8, 1763. 

"  Dear  Sir, — You  are  not  to  think  yourself  forgotten,  or  criminally  neg- 
lected, that  you  have  had  yet  no  letter  from  me.  I  love  to  see  my  friends, 
to  hear  from  them,  to  talk  to  them,  and  to  talk  of  them  ;  but  it  is  not  without  a 
considerable  effort  of  resolution  that  I  prevail  upon  myself  to  write.  I  would 
not,  however,  gratify  my  own  indolence  by  the  omission  of  any  important 
duty,  or  any  office  of  real  kindness. 

"  To  tell  you  that  I  am  or  am  not  well,  that  I  have  or  have  not  been  in  the 
country,  that  I  drank  your  health  in  the  room  in  which  we  last  sat  together, 
and  that  your  acquaintance  continue  to  speak  of  you  with  their  former  kind- 
ness, topics  with  which  those  letters  are  commonly  filled  which  are  written 
only  for  the  sake  of  writing,  I  seldom  shall  think  worth  communicating ;  but 
if  I  can  have  ii  in  my  power  to  calm  any  harassing  disquiet,  to  excite  any  vir- 
*uous  desire,  to  rectif;,  any  important  opinion,  or  fortify  any  generous  resolu- 
'Jon,  you  need  not  doubt  but  I  shall   \i  least  wish   to  prefer  the   pleasure  of 


STS  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^®^* 

gratifying  a  fu'end  much  less  esteemed  than  yourself,  before  the  gloomy  calm  of 
idle  vacancy.  Whether  I  shall  easily  arrive  at  an  exact  punctuahty  of  corre- 
spondence, I  cannot  tell.  I  shall,  at  present,  expect  that  you  will  receive  this 
in  return  for  two  which  I  have  had  from  you.  The  first,  indeed,  gave  me  an  ac- 
count so  hopeless  of  the  state  of  your  mind,  that  it  hardly  admitted  or  deserved 
an  answer  ;  by  the  second  I  was  much  better  pleased  ;  and  the  pleasure  will  still 
be  increased  by  such  a  narri'.tjv«  of  the  progress  of  your  studies,  as  may 
evince  the  continuance  of  an  equal  and  rational  application  of  your  mind 
to  some  useful  inquiry. 

"  You  will,  perhaps,  wish  to  ask,  what  study  I  would  recommend.  I  shall 
not  speak  of  theology,  because  it  ought  not  to  be  considered  uS  a  question 
wQCthcr  you  shall  endeavour  to  know  the  will  of  God. 

"  I  shall,  therefore,  consider  only  such  studies  as  we  are  at  liberty  to  pursue 
or  to  neglect;  and  of  these  I  know  not  how  you  will  make  a  better  choice, 
than  by  studying  the  civil  law  as  your  father  advises,  and  the  ancient  lan- 
guages as  you  had  determined  for  yourself;  at  least  resolve,  while  you  remain 
in  any  settled  residence,  to  spend  a  certain  number  of  hours  every  day  amongst 
your  books.  The  dissipation  of  thought  of  which  you  complain,  is  nothing 
more  than  the  vacillation  of  a  mind  suspended  between  different  motives,  and 
changing  its  direction  as  any  motive  gains  or  loses  strength.  If  you  can  but 
kindle  in  your  mind  any  strong  desire,  if  you  can  but  keep  predominant  any 
wish  for  some  particular  excellence  or  attainment,  the  gusts  of  imagination 
will  break  away,  without  any  effect  upon  your  conduct,  and  commonly  without 
any  traces  left  upon  the  memory. 

"  There  lurks,'  perhaps,  in  every  human  heart  a  desire  of  distinction,  which 
incHnes  every  man  first  to  hope,  and  then  to  believe,  that  nature  has  given 
him  something  peculiar  to  himself.  This  vanity  makes  one  mind  nurse  aver- 
sion, and  another  actuate  desires,  till  they  rise  by  art  much  above  their  original 
state  of  power  ;  and,  as  affectation  in  time  improves  to  habit,  they  at  .'ast 
tvrannise  over  him  who  at  first  encouraged  them  only  for  show.  Every  desire 
is  a  viper  in  the  bosom,  who,  while  he  was  chill,  was  harmless ;  but  when 
warmth  gave  him  strength,  exerted  it  in  poison.  You  know  a  gentleman, 
who,  when  first  he  set  his  foot  in  the  gay  world  as  he  prepared  himself  to 
whirl  in  the  vortex  of  pleasure,  imagined  a  total  indifference  and  universal 
negligence  to  be  the  most  agreeable  concomitants  of  youth,  and  the  strongest 
indication  of  an  airy  temper  and  a  quick  anprehension.  Vacant  to  every 
object,  and  sensible  of  every  impulse,  he  thoughc  that  all  appearance  of  dih- 
grence  would  deduct  something  from  the  reputation  of  genius;  and  hoped  that 
he  should  appear  to  attain,  amidst  all  the  ease  of  carelessness,  and  all  the 
tumult  of  diversion,  that  knowledge  and  those  accomplishments  which  mortal*' 
of  the  common  fabric  obtain  only  by  mute  abstraction  and  solitary  drudgery. 
He  tried  this  scheme  of  life  awhile,  was  made  weary  of  it  by  his  sense  and 
his  virtue  ;  he  then  wished  to  return  to  his  studies ;  and  finding  long  habits  of 
idleness  and  pleasure  harder  to  be  cured  than  he  "  ipected,  still  willing  to  'etaip 


Sl'Tir.  64  FR13ICK   LAXGUAGE.  3*19 

hsi  claim  to  some  extraordinary  prerogative;),  resolved  the  common  consc- 
(jnences  of  irregularity  into  an  mialterable  decree  of  destiny,  and  concluded 
that  Nature  had  originally  formed  him  incapable  of  rational  employment. 

"  Let  all  such  fancies,  illusive  and  destructive,  be  banished  henceforward 
from  your  thoughts  for  ever.  Resolve,  and  keep  your  resolution  ;  choose  and 
;mrsue  your  choice.  If  you  spend  this  day  in  study,  you  will  find  yourself  stih 
n.ore  able  to  study  to-morrow  ;  not  that  you  are  to  expect  that  you  shall  at  once 
obtain  a  complete  victory.  Depravity  is  not  very  easily  overcome.  Eesolution 
will  sometime^  relax,  and  diligence  will  sometimes  be  interrupted ;  but  let  no 
accidental  surprise  or  deviation,  whether  short  or  long,  dispose  you  to  despon- 
dency. Consider  these  failings  as  incident  to  all  mankind.  Begin  again 
where  you  left  off,  and  endeavour  to  avoid  the  seducements  that  prevailed 
over  you  before. 

"  This,  my  dear  Boswcll,  is  advice  which,  perhaps,  has  been  often  given  you, 
and  given  you  without  effect.  But  this  advice,  if  you  will  not  take  from 
others  you  must  take  from  your  own  reflections,  if  you  purpose  to  do  the  duties 
of  the  station  to  which  the  bounty  of  Providence  has  called  you. 

*'  Let  me  have  a  long  letter  from  you  as  soon  as  you  can.  I  hope  you  con- 
tinue your  journal,  and  enrich  it  with  many  observations  upon  the  country  in 
which  you  reside.  It  will  be  a  favour  if  you  can  get  me  any  books  in  the 
Frisick  language,  and  can  inquire  how  the  poor  are  maintained  in  the  Seven 
Provinces.     I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  servivnt, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  am  sorry  to  observe,  that  neither  in  my  own  minutes,  nor  in  my 
letters  to  Johnson  wliich  have  been  preserved  by  him,  can  I  find 
any  information  how  the  poor  are  maintained  in  the  Seven  Pro- 
vinces. But  I  shall  extract  from  one  of  my  letters  what  I  learnt 
concerning  the  other  subject  of  his  curiosity. 

"  I  have  made  all  possible  inquiry  with  respect  to  the  Frisick  language,  and 
find  that  it  has  been  less  cultivated  than  any  other  of  the  northern  dialects ;  a  cer- 
tain proof  of  which  is  their  deficiency  of  books.  Of  the  old  Frisick  there  are  no 
remains,  except  some  ancient  laws  preserved  by  Schotanus  in  his  '  Beschry- 
vinge  van  die  Hcerlykheid  van  Friesland ;^  and  his  '  Historia  Frisica.^  I  have 
not  yet  been  able  to  find  these  books.  Professor  Trotz,  who  formerly  was  of 
the  University  of  Vranyken  in  Friesland,  and  is  at  present  preparing  an 
edition  of  all  the  Frisick  laws,  gave  me  this  information.  Of  the  modern 
Frisick,  or  what  is  spoken  by  the  boors  of  this  day,  I  have  procured  a  speci- 
men, It  is  '  Gishett  Japix's  Rymelerie,^  which  is  the  only  book  that  they 
have.  It  is  amazing  that  they  have  no  translation  of  the  bible,  no  treatises  of 
devotion,  nor  even  any  of  the  ballads  and  story-books  which  are  so  agreeable 
U>  country  people.     You  shall  have  Japix  by  the  first  convenient  opportunity. 


380  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  '^^ 

I  doubt  not  to  pick  up  Schotanus.     Mynheer  Trotz  has  promised  me  his  assist 
ance." 

Early  in  1764,  Johnson  paid  a  visit  to  the  Langton  family,  at  their 
seat  at  Langton  in  Lincolnshire,  where  he  passed  some  time  much 
to  his  satisfaction.  His  friend  Benuet  Langton,  it  will  not  be 
doubted,  did  everything  in  his  power  to  make  the  place  agreeable  to 
so  illustrious  a  guest  ;  and  the  elder  Mr.  Langton  and  his  lady  being 
fully  capable  of  understanding  his  value,  were  not  wanting  in  atten- 
tion. He,  however,  told  me,  that  old  Mr.  Langton,  though  a  man 
of  considerable  learning,  had  so  little  allowance  to  make  for  his 
occasional  "  laxity  of  talk,"  that  because  in  the  course  of  discussion 
he  sometimes  mentioned  what  might  be  said  in  favour  of  the  peculiar 
tenets  of  the  Romish  church,  he  went  to  his  grave  believing  him  to 
be  of  that  communion. 

Johnson,  during  his  stay  at  Langton,  had  the  advantage  of  a 
good  library,  and  saw  several  gentlemen  of  the  neighbourhood.  I 
have  obtained  from  Mr.  Langton  the  following  particulars  of  this 
period. 

He  was  now  fully  convinced  that  he  could  not  have  been  satisfied 
with  a  country  living  ;  for  talking  of  a  respectable  clergyman  in 
Lincolnshire,  he  observed,  "  This  man,  Sir,  fills  up  the  duties  of  his 
life  well.     I  approve  of  him,  but  could  not  imitate  him." 

To  a  lady  who  endeavoured  to  vindicate  herself  from  blame  foi 
neglecting  social  attention  to  worthy  neighbours,  by  saying,  "  I 
would  go  to  them  if  it  would  do  them  any  good  ;"  he  said,  "  What 
good,  Madam,  do  you  expect  to  have  in  your  power  to  do  them  ? 
It  is  shewing  them  respect,  and  that  is  doing  them  good." 

So  socially  accommodating  was  he,  that  once,  when  Mr.  Langton 
and  he  were  driving  together  in  a  coach,  and  Mr.  Langton  com- 
plained of  being  sick,  he  insisted  that  ho.  should  go  out  and  sit  on 
the  back  of  it  in  the  open  air,  which  tfcy  did.  And  being  sensible 
how  strange  the  appearance  must  be,  observed  that  a  countryman 
whom  they  saw  in  a  field  would  probably  be  thinking,  "  If  these 
two  madmen  should  come  down,  what  would  become  of  me  ?" 

Soon  after  his  return  to  London,  which  was  in  February,  was 
founded  that  Club  which  existed  long  without  a  name,  but  at  Mr. 
Garrick's  funeral  became  distinguished  by  the  title  of  Thk  Liter.^ry 


-^'A'-"-  THE   CLUB.  381 

Club.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  bad  the  merit  of  being  the  first  pro- 
poser  of  it,'  to  which  Johnson  acceded,  and  the  original  members 
were,  Sir  Joshua  Rej^nolds,  Dr.  Johnson,  Mr.  Edmund  Burlie,  Dr. 
Nugent,  Mr.  Beauclerli,  Mr.  Langton,  Dr.  Goldsmith,  Mr.  Chamier, 
and  Sir  John  Hawkins.  They  met  at  the  Turk's  Head,  in  Gerrard 
Street,  Soho,  one  evening  in  every  week,  at  seven,  and  generally 
continued  their  conversation  till  a  pretty  late  hour.^  This  club 
^as  been  gradually  increased  to  its  present  [1791]  number,  thirty- 
five.  After  about  ten  years,  instead  of  supping  weekly,'  it  was  re- 
solved to  dine  together  once  a  fortnight  during  the  meeting  of  Par- 
liament. Their  original  tavern  having  been  converted  into  a  pri- 
vate house,  they  moved  first  to  Prince's  in  Sackville  Street,  then  to 
Le  Telier's  in  Dover  Street,  and  now  meet  at  Parsloe's,  St. 
James's  Street.*  Between  the  time  of  its  formation,  and  the  time 
at  which  this  work  is  passing  through  the  press,  (June,  1792)  the 

'  Johnson  called  Sir  Joshua  their  Jiomulus. — Piozzi. 

"  It  was  Johnson's  original  Intention,  that  the  number  of  tliis  club  should  not  exceed  nine  ; 
but  Mr.  Dyer,  a  member  of  that  in  Ivy  Lane  before  spoken  of,  and  who  for  some  years  had 
been  abroad,  made  his  appearance  among  them,  and  was  cordially  received.  The  hours 
which  Johnson  spent  in  this  society  seemed  to  be  the  happiest  of  his  life.  He  would  often 
applaud  his  own  sagacity  in  the  selection  of  it,  and  was  so  constant  at  its  meetings  as  never  to 
absent  himself.  It  is  true,  he  came  late,  but  then  he  stayed  late  ;  for,  as  has  been  already 
said  of  him,  he  little  regarded  hours.  Our  evening  toast  was  the  motto  of  Padre  Paolo, 
"Esto  perpetua."  A  lady  [probably  Mrs.  Montagu],  distinguished  by  her  beauty  and  taste 
for  literature,  invited  us,  two  successive  years,  to  a  dinner  at  her  house.  Curiosity  was  her 
motive,  and  possibly  a  desire  of  intermingling  with  our  conversation  the  charms  of  her  own. 
She  affected  to  consider  us  as  a  set  of  literary  men,  and  perhaps  gave  the  first  occasion  for 
distinguishing  the  society  by  the  name  of  the  "Literary  Club,"  an  appellation  which  it  never 
assumed  to' itself.  At  these  meetings,  Johnson,  as  indeed  he  did  everywhere,  led  the  conver- 
sation, yet  was  he  far  from  arrogating  to  himself  that  superiority,  which,  some  years  before, 
he  was  disposed  to  contend  for.  He  had  seen  enough  of  the  world  to  know,  that  respect  was 
not  to  be  extorted,  and  began  now  to  be  satisfied  with  that  degree  of  eminence  to  which  his 
writings  had  exalted  him.  This  change  in  his  behaviour  was  remarked  by  those  who  were 
best  acquainted  with  his  character,  and  it  rendered  him  an  easy  and  delightful  companion. 
Our  discourse  was  miscellaneous,  but  chiefly  literary.  Politics  were  alone  excluded. — • 
Hawkins.  ■ 

3  It  was  a  suppei'-meeting  then,  on  a  Friday  night,  and  I  fancy  Dr.  Nugent  [who  was  a 
Roman  Catholic]  ordered  an  omelet ;  and  Johnson  felt  very  painful  sensations  at  the  sight  of 
that  dish  soon  after  his  death,  and  cried,  "  Ah,  my  poor  dear  friend,  I  shall  never  eat  omelet 
with  thee  again  !"  quite  in  an  agony.  The  truth  is,  nobody  suffered  more  from  pungent  sor- 
row at  a  friend's  death  than  Johnson,  though  he  would  suffer  no  one  to  complain  of  their 
losses  in  the  same  way.  "  For,"  says  he,  "we  must  either  outlive  our  friends,  you  know,  or 
our  friends  must  outlive  us ;  and  I  see  no  man  that  would  hesitate  about  the  choice." — Piozzi. 

*  The  club,  some  years  after  Mr.  Boswell's  death,  removed  (in  1799)  from  Parsloe's  to  the 
Thatched  House  in  St.  James's  Street,  where  they  still  continue  to  meet.— M.  [A  full  List  of 
the  Club  down  to  the  present  time  (March,  1825)  will  be  found  in  the  Appbhdix,  No.  III.] 


382  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

following  persons,  now  dead,  were  members  of  it  :  Mr.  Dunning 
(afterwards  Lord  Ashburton),  Mr.  Samuel  Dyer,  Mr.  Garrick,  Dr. 
Shipley,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  Mr.  Vesey,  Mr.  Thomas  Warton, 
and  Dr.  Adam  Smith.  The  present  members  are,  Mr.  Burke,  Mr. 
Langton,  Lord  Charlemont,  Sir  Eobert  Chambers,  Dr.  Percy  Bishop 
of  Dromore,  Dr.  Barnard  Bishop,  of  Killaloe,  Dr.  Marlay  Bishop  of 
Cloufert,  Mr.  Fox,  Dr.  George  Fordyce,  Sir  William  Scott,  Sii 
Joseph  Banks,  Sir  Charles  Bunbury,  Mr.  Windham  of  Norfolk,  Mr. 
Sheridan,  Mr.  Gibbon,  Sir  William  Jones,  Mr.  Colraan,  Mr.  Steevens, 
Dr.  Burney,  Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  Mr.  Malone,  Lord  Ossory,  Lord 
Spencer,  Loi;d  Lucan,  Lord  Palmerston,  Lord  Eliot,  Lord  !Macart- 
ney,  Mr.  Richjird  Burke  Junior,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  Dr.  Warren^ 
Mr.  Courtenay,  Dr.  Hiuchliffe  Bishop  of  Peterborough,  the  Duke  of 
Leeds,  Dr.  Douglas  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  and  the  writer  of  this 
account. 

Sir  John  Hawkins  represents  himself  [Life,  p.  425]  as  a  "itceder  " 
from  this  society,  and  assigns  as  the  reason  of  his  "withdrawing^^ 
himself  from  it,  that  its  late  hours  were  inconsistent  with  his  domes- 
tic arrangements.  In  this  he  is  not  accurate  ;  for  the  fact  was,  that 
he  one  evening  attacked  Mr.  Burke  in  so  rude  a  manner,  that  all  the 
company  testified  their  displeasure  ;  and  at  their  next  meeting  their 
reception  was  such,  that  he  never  came  again.* 

He  is  equally  inaccurate  with  respect  to  Mr.  Garrick,  of  whom  he 
says,  "  He  trusted  that  the  least  intimation  of  a  desire  to  come 
among  us,  would  procure  him  a  ready  admission  ;"  but  in  this  he 
was  mistaken.  Johnson  consulted  me  upon  it ;  and  when  I  could 
find  no  objection  to  receiving  him,  exclaimed,  "  He  will  disturb  us  by 
his  buffoonery  ;" — and  afterwards  so  managed  matters,  that  he  was 
never  formally  proposed,  and,  by  consequence,  never  admitted.^ 

In  justice  both  to  Mr.  Garrick  and  Dr.  Johnson,  I  think  it  neces- 
sary to  rectify  this  mis-statement.     The  truth  is,  that  not  very  Icng 
.  after  the  institution  of  our  club.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  speaking 

1  From  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. — Boswell.  The  knight  having  refused  to  pay  his  portlor.  o! 
the  reckoning  for  supper,  because  he  usually  eat  no  supper  at  home,  Johnson  observed,  "  Si 
John,  Sir,  is  a  very  wndubable  man." — Burney.  Hawkins  was  not  knighted  till  October,  1779 
long  after  he  had  left  the  club. — C. 

'  Hawkins  probably  meant  "  never  "  MiAiZe  he  himself  'belonged  to  the  Club, — C.  [M> 
Garrick  was  elected  in  March,  1773.] 


*'*''•  56.  GARRICK.  383 

of  it  to  Gairick,  "  I  like  it  much,"  said  he  ;  "I  thiuk  I  shall  be 
of  you."  When  Sir  Joshua  mentioned  this  to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  waa 
much  displeased  with  the  actor's  conceit.  "  HeUl  be  of  ws,"  said 
Johnson  ;  "  how  does  he  know  we  will  ferjnit  him  ?  the  first  duke  in 
England  has  no  riglit  to  hold  such  language."  However,  when  Gar- 
rick  was  regularly  proposed  some  time  afterwards,  Johnson,  though 
he  had  taken  a  momentary  offence  at  his  arrogance,  warmly  and 
kindly  supported  him,  and  he  was  accordingly  elected,  was  a  most 
agreeable  member,  and  continued  to  attend  our  meetings  to  the 
time  of  his  death. 

Mrs.  Piozzi  *  has  also  given  a  similar  misrepresentation  of  John- 
son's treatment  of  Garrick  in  this  particular,  as  if  he  had  used  these 
contemptuous  expressions  :  "If  Garrick  does  apply,  I'll  blackball 
him." — "  Surely,  one  ought  to  sit  in  a  society  like  ours, 

'  Uuelbow'd  by  a  gamester,  pimp,  or  player.'  "  ' 

I  am  happy  to  be  enabled  by  such  unquestionable  authority  as  that 
of  Sir  Josliua  ReynQlds,'  as  well  as  from  my  own  knowledge,  to  vin- 
dicate at  once  the  heart  of  Johnson  and  the  social  merit  of  Garrick. 

In  this  year,  except  what  he  may  have  done  in  revising  Shak- 
speare,  we  do  not  find  that  he  laboured  much  in  literature.  He 
wrote  a  review  of  Grainger's  "  Sugar  Cane,"  a  poem,  in  the  London 
Chronicle.  He  told  me,  that  Dr.  Percy  wrote  the  greatest  part  of 
this  review  ;  but,  I  imagine,  he  did  not  recollect  it  distinctly,  for  it 
appears  to  be  mostly,  if  not  altogether,  his  own.  He  also  wrote,  in 
the  Critical  Review,  an  account  f  of  Goldsmith's  excellent  poem, 
'•  The  Traveller." " 

The  ease  and  independence  to  which  he  had  at  last  attained  by 
royal  munificence,  increased  his  natural  indolence.  In  his  "  Medita- 
tions" [p.  53],  he  thus  accuses  himself: 

1  Letters  to  and  from  Dr.  Johnson,  vol.  ii.  p.  387. 

*    "Is  there  a  lord,  who  knows  a  cheerful  noon 
Without  a  fiddler,  flatt'rer,  or  buifoon  ? 
Whose  table,  wit,  or  modest  merit  share, 
Unelbow'd  by  a  gamester,  pimp,  orplay'r?" — Pope. 
•  It  does  not  appear  how  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  authority  can  be  made  available  in  thl» 
caae     The  expression  is  stated  to  have  been  used  to  Mr.  Thrale  ;  and  the  fact  that  Garricit 
was  for  near  Un  years  excluded  from  the  Club,  seems  to  give  but  too  much  colour  to  thii 
<*orf.— C. 

«'  The  Traveller  "  was  published  in  December,  1764. 


384  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


IIM. 


"Good  Friday,  April  20,  1764. — I  have  made  no  reformatiou ;  I  have 
lived  totally  useless,  more  sensual  in  thought,  and  more  addicted  to  wine  ami 
meat." 

And  next  morning  he  thus  feelingly  complains  : 

/ 

"  My  indolence,  since  my  last  reception  of  the  sacrament,  has  sunk  into 
grosser  sluggishness,  and  my  dissipation  spread  into  wilder  negligence.  My 
thoughts  have  been  clouded  with  sensuality ;  and,  except  that  from  the  begin- 
ning of  this  year  I  have,  in  some  measure,  forborne  excess  of  strong  drink, 
my  appetites  have  predominated  over  my  reason.  A  kind  of  strange  oblivion 
has  ovei spread  me,  so  that  I  know  not  what  has  become  of  the  last  year;  and 
perceive  that  incidents  and  intelligence  pass  over  me  without  leaving  any  im- 
pression." 

He  then  solemnly  says,  "  This  is  not  the  life  to  which  heaven  is 
promised  ;"  and  he  earnestly  resolves  an  amendment : 

"Easter-DAT,  April  22,  1764. — HaTing,  before  I  went  to  bed,  composed  the 
foregoing  meditation,  and  the  following  prayer;  I  tried  to  compose  myself, 
but  slept  unquietly.  I  rose,  took  tea,  and  prayed  for' resolution  and  perscver- 
tnce.  Thought  on  Tetty,  dear  poor  Tetty,  with  my  eyes  full.  I  went  to 
church ;  came  in  at  the  first  of  ti»e  Psalms,  and  endeavoured  to  attend  the 
service,  which  I  went  through  without  perturbation.  After  sermon,  I  recom- 
mended Tetty  in  a  prayer  by  herself;  and  my  father,  mother,  brother,  and 
Bathurst,  in  another.     I  did  it  only  once,  so  far  as  it  might  be  lawful  for  me. 

"  I  then  prayed  for  resolution  and  perseverance  to  amend  my  life.  I  re 
ceived  soon :  the  communicants  were  many.  At  the  altar,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  I  ought  to  form  some  resolutions.  I  resolved,  in  the  presence  of  God,  but 
without  a  vow,  to  repel  sinful  thoughts,  to  study  eight  hours  daily,  and,  I 
think,  to  go  to  church  every  Sunday,  and  read  the  Scriptures.  I  gave  a  shil- 
ling ;  and  seeing  a  poor  girl  at  the  sacrament  in  a  bedgown,  gave  her  privately 
a  crown,  though  I  saw  Hart's  Hymns*  in  her  hand.  I  prayed  earnestly  for 
amendment,  and  repeated  my  prayer  at  home.     Dined  with   Miss  W[illiam8] ; 

went  to  prayers  at  church ;  went  to ,"  spent  the  evening  not  pleasantly. 

Avoided  wine,  and  tempered  a  very  few  glasses  with  sherbet.  Came  home 
and  prayed.  I  saw  at  the  sacrament  a  man  meanly  dressed,  whom  I  have 
always  seen  there  at  Easter." 

»  "  Hymns  composed  on  various  Subjects,  by  the  Rev.  John  Hart,  of  the  Grey  Friar** 
Church,  Edinburgh ;  with  a  Brief  Account  of  the  Author's  Experience,"  12mo.,  1759. 

*  In  the  original  MS.,  instead  of  this  blank,  are  the  letters  Davi,  followed  by  some  ow>*t 
letters  which  are  illegible.  They,  no  doubt,  meant  either  Davies,  the  boolsseller,  or  Lavifl 
Garrick ;  most  likely  the  former.— Haix. 


■**■*'•  55-  ODD   HABITS.  38" 

It  was  his  custom  to  observe  certain  days  with  a  pious  abstrac- 
tion :  viz.  New-year's-day,  the  day  of  his  wife's  death,  Good  Friday, 
Easter-day,  and  his  own  birth-day.     He  this  year  [on  his  birtli-day], 

says, 

"  I  have  now  spent  fifty-five  years  in  resolving ;  having,  from  the  earliest 
tune  almost  that  I  can  remember,  been  forming  schemes  of  a  better  life.  I 
have  done  nothing.  The  need  of  doing,  therefore,  is  pressing,  since  the  time 
of  doing  is  short.  0  God,  grant  me  to  resolve  aright,  and  to  keep  my  resolu- 
tions, for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen." 

Such  a  tenderness  of  conscience,  such  a  fervent  desire  of  improve- 
ment, will  rarely  be  found.  It  is,  surely,  not  decent  in  those  who 
are  hardened  in  iudiiference  to  spiritual  improvement,  to  treat  Ihis 
pious  anxiety  of  Johnson  with  contempt. 

About  this  time  he  was  afflicted  with  a  very  severe  return  of  the 
hypochondriac  disorder,  which  was  ever  lurking  about  him.  He 
was  so  ill,  as,  notwithstanding  his  remarkable  love  of  company,  to 
be  entirely  averse  to  society,  the  most  fatal  symptom  of  that  malady. 
Dr.  Adams  told  me,  that,  as  an  old  friend  he  was  admitted  to  visit 
him,  and  that  he  found  him  in  a  deplorable  state,  sighing,  groaning, 
■talking  to  himself,  and  restlessly  walking  from  room  to  room.  He 
^hen  used  this  emphatical  expression  of  the  misery  which  he  felt : 
"  I  would  consent  to  have  a  limb  amputated  to  recover  my  spirits." 

Talking  to  himself  was,  indeed,  one  of  his  singularities  ever  since 

knew  him.  I  was  certain  that  he  was  frequently  uttering  pious 
ejaculations  ;  for  fragments  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  have  been  dis- 
tinctly overheard.*  His  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Davies,  of  whom 
Churchill  says, 

'  It  used  to  be  ima^ned  at  Mr.  Thrale's,  when  Johnson  retired  to  a  window  or  corner  ot 
the  room,  by  perceiving  his  lips  in  motion,  and  hearing  a  murmur  without  audible  articula- 
tion, that  he  was  praying;  but  this  was  not  altoays  the  case,  for  I  was  once,  perhaps  unper- 
ceived  by  him,  writing  at  a  table,  so  near  the  place  of  his  retreat,  that  I  heard  him  repeating 
jiome  lines  in  an  ode  of  Horace,  over  and  over  again,  as  if  by  iteration  to  exercise  the  organ* 
of  speech,  and  fix  the  ode  in  his  memory  : — 

"  Audiet  cives  accuisse  ferrum 
Quo  graves  PerscB  melius  perirent, 
Audiet  pugnas    .     .     .    ."  * 
It  was  during  the  American  war. — Burnet. 

*  ["Our  sons  shall  hear,  shalMiear  to  latest  times. 
Of  Roman  arms  with  civil  gore  imbued, 
Which  better  had  the  Persian  foe  subdued." — FRANCia,] 

VOL.   I.  11 


S86  LIFE    OF    JORNSON,  ^^**- 

"  That  Davies  hath  v  very  pretty  wife  ;" 

when  Dr.  Jolinson  muttered  "lead  us  not  into  temptation" — used 
with  waggish  and  gallant  humour  to  whisper  Mrs.  Davies,  "Y^u, 
my  dear,  are  the  cause  of  this." 

He  had  another  particularity,  of  which  none  of  his  friends  ever 
rentured  to  ask  an  explanation.  It  appeared  to  me  some  supersti- 
tious habit,  which  he  had  contracted  early,  and  from  which  he  had 
never  called  upon  his  reason  to  disentangle  him.  This  was  his 
anxious  care  to  go  out  or  in  at  a  door  or  passage,  by  a  certain  num- 
ber of  steps  from  a  certain  point,  or  at  least  so  as  that  either  his  right 
or  his  left  foot  (I  am  not  certain  which)  should  constantly  make  the 
first  actual  movement  when  he  came  close  to  the  door  or  passage. 
Thus  I  conjecture  :  for  I  have,  upon  innumerable  occasions,  observed 
him  suddenly  stop,  and  then  seem  to  count  his  steps  with  a  deep 
earnestness  ;  and  when  he  had  neglected  or  gone  wrong  in  this  sort 
of  magical  movement,  I  have  seen  him  go  back  again,  put  himself 
in  a  proper  posture  to  begin  the  ceremony,  and,  having  gone  through 
it,  break  from  his  abstraction,  walk  briskly  on,  and  join  his  com- 
panion. A  strange  instance  of  something  of  this  nature,  even  when 
on  horseback,  happened  when  he  was  in  the  Isle  of  Sky  [12th  Octo- 
ber, 1773].  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  has  observed  him  to  go  a  good 
way  about,  rather  than  cross  a  particular  alley  in  Leicester  Fields  ; 
but  this  Sir  Joshua  imputed  to  his  having  had  some  disagreeable 
recollection  associated  with  it.* 

That  the  most  minute  singularities  which  belonged  to  him,  and 

1  "  Mr.  Sheridan  at  one  time  lived  in  Bedford  Street,  opposite  Henrietta  Street,  which  ' 
ranges  with  the  south  side  of  Covent  Garden,  so  that  the  prospect  lies  open  the  whole  way, 
free  of  interruption.  We  were  standing  together  at  the  drawing-room,  exjiecting  Johnson,  who 
was  to  dine  there.  Mr.  Sheridan  asked  me,  could  I  see  the  length  of  the  Garden?  'No, 
Sir.'  [Mr.  Whyte  was  short-sighted.]  '  Take  out  your  opera-glass,  Johnson  is  coming ;  you- 
may  know  him  hy  his  gait.'  I  perceived  him  at  a  good  distanc  >,  working  along  with  a  pecu- 
liar solemnity  of  deportment,  and  an  awkward  sort  of  measured  step.  At  that  time  the  broad 
tagging  at  each  side  the  streets  was  not  universally  adopted,  and  stone  posts  were  in  fashion, 
to  prevent  the  annoyance  of  carriages.  Upon  every  post,  as  he  passed  along,  I  could  observe, 
he  deliberately  laid  his  hand ;  but  missing  one  of  them  when  he  had  got  at^ome  distance,  ha 
seemed  suddenly  to  recollect  himself,  and  immediately  returning  back,  carefully  performed 
the  accustomed  ceremony,  and  resumed  his  former  course,  not  omitting  one  till  he  gained  the 
crossing.  This,  Mr.  Sheridan  assured  me,  however  odd  it  might  appear,  was  hia  constant 
practice ;  but  why  or  wherefore  he  could  not  inform  me." — Whyte,  Miscell.  Nova,  p.  49. 

See  (ante,  Vol  I.  p.  160)  his  conduct  at  Mr.  Bankes's,  which  sesms  something  of  the  sam« 
kind.    Dr.  Fisher,  Master  of  the  Charter  House,  tells  me,  that  in  walking  on  the  quadrangle 


*TAr.  86.  ODD    HABITS,  381 

made  very  observable  parts  of  bis  appearance  aim  manner,  may  not 
be  omitted,  it  is  requisite  to  mention,  that,  while  talking,  or  even 
musing  as  he  sat  in  his  chair,  he  commonly  held  his  head  to  one  side 
towards  his  right  shoulder,  and  shook  it  in  a  tremulous  manner, 
moving  his  body  backwards  and  forwards,  and  rubbing  his  left  knee 
in  the  same  direction,  with  the  palm  of  his  hand.  In  the  intervals 
of  articulating  he  made  various  sounds  with  his  mouth,  sometimes  as 
if  ruminating,  or  what  is  called  chewing  the  cud,  sometimes  giving 
a  half  whistle,  sometimes  making  his  tongue  play  backwards  from 
the  roof  of  his  mouth,  as  if  clucking  like  a  hen,  and  sometimes  pro- 
truding it  against  his  upper  gums  in  front,  as  if  pronouncing  quickly, 
under  his  breath,  too,  too,  too  :  all  this  accompanied  sometimes  with 
a  thoughtful  look,  but  more  frequently  with  a  smile.  Generally 
when  he  had  concluded  a  period,  in  the  course  of  a  dispute,  by 
which  time  he  was  a  good  deal  exhausted  by  violence  and  vocifera- 
tion, he  used  to  blow  out  his  breath  like  a  whale.  This  I  suppose 
was  a  relief  to  his  lungs  ;  and  seemed  in  him  to  be  a  contemptuous 
mode  of  expression,  as  if  he  had  made  the  arguments  of  his  oppo- 
nent fly  like  chaff  before  the  wind. 

I  am  fully  aware  how  very  obvious  an  occasion  I  here  give  for  the 
sneering  jocularity  of  such  as  have  no  relish  of  an  exact  likeness  ; 
which,  to  render  complete,  he  who  draws  it  must  not  disdain  the 
slightest  strokes.  But  if  whitlings  should  be  inclined  to  attack  this 
account,  let  them  have  the  candour  to  quote  what  I  have  offered  in 
my  defence. 

Letter  88.  TO  MISS  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  London,  Jem.  10,  1T64. 
"  My  Dkak, — I  was  in  hopes  that  you  would  have  written  to  nie  before  this 
time,  to  tell  me  that  your  house  was  finished,  and  that  you  were  happy  in  it.  I 
am  sure  I  wish  you  happy.  By  the  carrier  of  this  week  you  will  receive  a  box, 
iu  which  I  have  put  some  books,  most  of  which  were  your  poor  dear  mamma's, 
and  a  diamond  ring,'  which  I  hope  you  will  wear  as  my  new  year's  gift.  If 
you  receive  it  with  as  much  kindness  as  I  send  it,  you  will  not  slight  it ;  you 
will  be  very  fond  of  it. 

of  University  College,  he  would  not  step  on  the  juncture  if  the  stones,  but  carefully  on  th« 
centre  :  but  this  is  a  trick  which  many  persons  have  when  sauntering  on  any  kind  of  tessella- 
tion.    Dr.  Fisher  adds,  that  he  would  sometimes  go  to  the  college  pump,  and  alternately  fiU 
End  empty  it,  without  any  object  that  Dr.  Fisher  could  discern. — Croker. 
»  This  ring  is  now  [1S80]  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Pearson. — Harwood. 


388  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON, 


17«0, 


"  Piaj'  give  my  service  to  Kitty,  who,  I  hope,  keeps  pietty  well.  1  know 
not  now  when  I  shall  come  down ;  I  believe  it  will  not  be  very  soon.  But  I 
ihall  be  glad  to  hear  of  you  from  time  to  time. 

"  I  wish  you,  my  dearest,  many  happy  years ;  take  what  care  you  can  of 
your  health.     I  am,  my  dear,  your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

He  was  for  some  time  in  the  summer  at  Easton  Maudit,  North- 
amptonshire, on  a  visit  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Percy,  now  Bishop  of 
Dromore.'  Whatever  dissatisfaction  he  felt  at  what  he  considered 
as  a  slow  progress  in  intellectual  improvement,  we  find  that  his  heart 
was  tender,  and  his  affections  warm,  as  appears  from  the  following 
very  kind  letter  : 

Letter  89.  TO  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS,  ESQ., 

In  Leicester  Fields. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  did  not  near  of  your  sickness  till  I  heard  likewise  of  your 
recovery,  and  therefore  escape  that  part  of  your  pain,  which  every  gian  must 
feel,  to  whom  you  are  known  as  you  are  known  to  me. 

"  Having  had  no  particular  account  of  your  disorder,  I  know  not  in  what 
state  it  has  left  you.  If  the  amusement  of  my  company  can  exhilarate  the 
languor  of  a  slow  recovery,  I  will  not  delay  a  day  to  come  to  you ;  for  I  know 
not  how  I  can  so  effectually  promote  my  own  pleasure  as  by  pleasing  you, 
or  my  own  interest  as  by  preserving  you,  in  whom,  if  I  should  lose  you,  I 
should  lose  almost  the  only  man  whom  I  call  a  friend. 

"  Pray,   let  me  hear  of  you  from  yourself,  or  from  dear  Miss  Reynolds.' 

Make  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Mudge.     I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate 

and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 
"  At  the  Rev.  Mr.  Percy's,  at  Easton 

Maudit,  Northamptonshire,  (by 

Castle  Ashby,)  Aug.  19, 1764." 

Early  in  the  year  1615,  he  paid  a  short  visit  to  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  with  his  friend  Mr.  Beauclerk.      There  is  a  lively  pic- 

'  He  spent  parts  of  the  months  of  June,  July,  and  August  with  me,  accompanied  by  bis 
friend   Mrs.  Williams,  whom  Mrs.  Percy  found  a  very  agreeable  companion. — Percy. 

'^  Sir  Joshua's  sister,  for  whom  Johnson  had  a  particular  affection,  and  to  whom  he  wrote 
many  letters  which  I  have  seen,  and  which  I  am  sorry  her  too  nice  delicacy  will  not  permit 
to  be  published. — Bos  well.  One  will  be  found  added  by  Mr.  Malone,  post,  July  21, 1781,  and 
several  others  communicated  to  me  in  the  course  of  the  work.  Of  Miss  Reynolds,  Johnson 
thought  so  highly,  that  he  once  said  to  Mrs.  Piozzi,  "  I  never  knew  but  one  mind  which  would 
bear  a  microscopical  examination,  and  that  is  dear  Miss  Reynolds's,  and  hers  is  very  near  to 
purity  itself."    (Amecdoies,  p.  68.)— Cbokek. 


^TAT.  56.  VISIT    TO    CAMBRIDGE.  389 

turesque  accouut  of  his  behaviour  on  this  visit,  ia  the  Geutleman'a 
Magazine  for  March,  1185,  being  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  the  late 
Dr.  John  Sharp.  The  two  following  sentences  are  very  character- 
istical  : — "  He  drank  his  large  potations  of  tea  with  me,  interrupted 
by  many  an  indignant  contradiction,  and  many  a  noble  sentiment." 

"  Several  persons  got  into  his  company  the  last   evening   at 

Trinity,  where,  about  twelve,  he  began  to  be  very  great  ;  stripped 
poor  Mrs.  Macaulay  to  the  very  skin,  then  gave  herfor  his  toast 
and  drank  her  in  two  bumpers."  ^ 

The  strictness  of  his  self-examination,  and  scrupulous  Christian 
humility,  appear  in  his  pious  meditation  on  Easter-day  this  year. 

"  I  purpose  again  to  partake  of  the  blessed  sacrament ;  yet  when  I  consider 
how  vainly  I  have  hitherto  resolved,  at  this  annual  commemoration  of  my  Sa- 
viour's death,  to  regulate  my  life  by  his  laws,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  renew  my 
resolutions."  [p.  61.] 

The  concluding  words  are  very  remarkable,  and  shew  that  he 
laboured  under  a  severe  depression  of  spirits. 

"Since  the  last  Easter  I  have  reformed  no  evil  habit ;  my  time  has  been  un- 
profitably   spent,   and  seems  as  a  dream  that  has  left  nothing  behind.     My 

1  Mr.  Sliari)'s  letter,  of  which  Boswell  quotes  only  two  fragments,  is  as  follows  : — 
"  Cambridge,  March  1,  17C5.^As  to  Johnson,  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear  that  I  have  had 
him  in  the  chair  in  wliich  I  am  now  writing.  He  has  ascended  my  aerial  citadel,  lie  came 
down  on  a  Saturday  evening,  with  a  Mr.  Beauclerk,  who  has  a  friend  at  Trinity  [Mr.  Lister]. 
Caliban,  you  may  be  sure,  was  not  roused  from  his  lair  before  next  day  noon,  and  his  breali- 
fast  probably  kejit  him  till  night.  I  saw  nothing  of  him,  nor  was  he  Iieard  of  by  any  one, 
till  Monday  afternoon,  when  I  was  sent  for  home  to  two  gentlemen  unknown.  In  conversa- 
tion I  made  a  strange  faux  pas  about  Barnaby  Greene's  poem,  in  which  Jolmson  is  drawn  at 
full  length.  He  drank  his  large  potation  of  tea  with  me,  interrupted  by  many  an  indignant 
contradiction,  and  many  a  noble  sentiment.  He  had  on  a  better  wig  than  usual,  but  one 
whose  curls  were  not,  like  Sir  Cloudesley's,  formed  for  '  eternal  buckle.'  Our  conversation 
was  chiefly  on  books,  you  may  be  sure.  He  was  much  pleased  with  a  small  Milton  of  mine, 
published  in  the  author's  lifetime,  and  with  the  Greek  epigram  on  his  own  effigy,  of  its  being 
the  picture,  not  of  him,  but  of  a  bad  painter.  There  are  many  manuscript  stanzas,  for  aught 
I  know,  in  Milton's  own  handwriting,  and  several  interlined  hints  and  fragments.  We  were 
puzzled  about  one  of  the  sonnets,  which  we  thought  was  not  to  be  found  in  Newton's  edition, 
and  differed  from  all  the  printed  ones.  But  Johnson  cried,  '  No,  no  !'  repeated  the  whole  son- 
net instantly,  memoriter,  and  showed  it  us  in  Newton's  book.  After  which  he  learnedly 
harangued  on  sonnet-writing,  and  its  different  numbers.  He  tells  me  lie  will  come  hithet 
again  quickly,  and  is  promised  '  an  habitation  in  Emanuel  College.'  [AVith  Dr.  Farmer.]  He 
went  back  to  town  next  morning  ;  but  as  it  began  to  be  known  that  he  was  in  the  university, 
several  persons  got  into  his  company  the  last  evening  at  Trinity,  where,  about  twelve,  ha 
tegan  to  be  very  grea* ;  stripped  poor  Mrs.  Macaulay  to  the  very  skin,  then  gave  her  for  hij 
least.  anO  drank  her  in  two  bumpers." 


390  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON  "•*• 

memory  grows  confused,  and  I  know  not  how  the  days  pass  over  vie.     Good 
Lord,  deliver  me !" 

He  proceeds  : — 

"  I  purpose  to  rise  at  eight,  because,  though  I  shall  not  yet  rise  early,  it  will 
be  much  earlier  than  I  now  rise,  for  I  often  lie  till  two,  and  will  gain  me  much 
time,  and  tend  to  a  conquest  over  idleness,  and  give  time  for  other  duties.  I 
hope  to  rise  yet  earlier." 

"  I  invited  home  with  me  the  man  whose  pious  behaviour  I  had  for  several 
years  observed  on  this  day,  and  found  him  a  kind  of  Methodist,  full  of  texts, 
but  ill-instructed.  I  talked  to  him  with  temper,  and  offered  him  twice  wine, 
which  he  refused.  I  suffered  him  to  go  without  the  dinner  which  I  liad  pur- 
posed to  give  him.  I  thought  this  day  that  there  was  something  irregular  and 
particular  in  his  look  and  gesture ;  but  having  intended  to  invite  him  to  ac- 
qaintance,  and  having  a  fit  opportunity  by  finding  him  near  my  seat  after  T 
had  missed  him,  I  did  what  I  at  first  designed,  and  am  sorry  to  have  been  so 
much  disappointed.  Let  me  not  be  prejudiced  hereafter  against  the  appcararco 
of  piety  in  mean  persons,  who,  with  indeterminate  notions,  and  perverre  or 
inelegant  conversation,  perhaps  are  doing  all  they  can." 

[Letter  90.  TO  DAVID  GARRICK,  ESQ. 

"  May  18, 1736. 

"Dear  Sir, — I  know  that  great  regard  will  be  had  to  your  opinion   of  an 

Edition  of  Sliakspoarc.     I  desire,  therefore,  to  secure  an  honest  prejudice  in 

my  favour  by  securing  your  suffrage,  and  that  'this  prejudice  may  really  be 

liouest,  1  wish  you  would  name  such  plays  as  you  would  see,  and  they  shall  be 

sent  you  by.  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  91.  FROM  MR.  GARRICK. 

"  May  31,  1766. 

"Dear  Sir, — My  brother  greatly  astonished  me  this  morning,  by  asking  me 

'  if  I  was  a  subscriber  to  your  Shakspeare  ?'     I  told  him,  yes,  that  I  was  one 

of  the  first,  and  as  soon  as  I   had  heard  of  your  intention ;  and  that  I  gave 

you,  at  the  same  time,  some   other  names,  among  which  were  the   Duke   of 

Devonshire,  Mr.  Beighton,    &c.     I  cannot  immediately  have  recourse  to  my 

memorandum,  though  I  remember  to  have  seen  it  just  before  I  left  Englanrl 

I  hope  that  you  will  recollect  it,  and  not   think  me  capable  of  neglecting  to 

make  you  so  trifling  a  compliment,  which  was  doubly  due  from  me,  not  only 

on   account   of  the  respect  I  have  always  had  for  your  abilities,    tut  from 

the  sincere  regard  I  shall  ever  pay  to  your  friendship.     I  am.  Sir,  .your  most 

obedicit  humble  servant, 

"David  Garejck."! 


^rir.  56.  (j^    STRAHAN — MR.    SIMPSON  391 

Letter  92,  TO  MR.  G.  STRAHAN, 

University   College,  Oxford. 

"  May,  25, 1765. 

"Dear  Sir, — That  I  have  answered  neither  of  your  letters  you  must  not 
impute  to  any  declension  of  good  will,  but  merely  to  the  want  of  something  to 
Bay.  I  suppose  you  pursue  your  studies  diligently,  and  diligence  will  seldom 
fail  of  success.  Do  not  tire  yourself  so  much  with  Greek  one  day  as  to  be 
afraid  of  looking  on  it  the  next ;  but  give  it  a  certain  portion  of  time,  sup- 
pose four  hours,  and  pass  the  rest  of  the  day  in  Latin  or  English.  I  would 
have  you  learn  French,  and  take  in  a  literary  journal  once  a  month,  which  will 
accustom  you  to  various  subjects,  and  inform  you  what  learning  is  going  for- 
ward in  the  world.  Do  not  omit  to  mingle  some  lighter  books  with  those  of 
more  importance ;  that  whicli  is  read  remisso  anhtio  is  often  of  great  use,  and 
takes  great  hold  of  the  remembrance.  However,  take  what  course  you  will, 
if  you  be  diligent  you  will  be  a  scholar.     I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours  affectionately, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

No  man  was  more  gratefully  sensible  of  any  kindness  done  to  him 
than  Johnson.  There  is  a  little  circumstance  in  his  diary  this  year, 
which  shews  him  in  a  very  amiable  light. 

"  July  2.     I  paid  Mr.  Simpson  ten  guineas,  which  he  had  formerly  lent  me 
in  my  necessity,  and  for  which  Tetty  expressed  her  gratitude." 
"  July  8.  I  lent  Mr.  Simpson  ten  guineas  more." 

Here  he  had  a  pleasing  opportunity  of  doing  the  same  kindness  to 
&n  old  friend,  which  he  had  formerly  received  from  him.  Indeed 
his  liberality  as  to  money  was  very  remarkable.  The  next  article 
in  his  diary  is,  "July  16th,  I  received  seventy-five  pounds.  Lent 
Mr.  Davies  twenty-five." 

Trinity  College,  Dublin,  at  this  time  surprised  Johnson  with  a 
spontaneous  compliment  of  the  highest  academical  honours,  by 
creating  him  Doctor  of  Laws.  The  diploma,  which  is  in  my 
possession,  is  as  follows  : — 

"  OMNIBUS  ad  quos  prasentes  literse  pervenerint,  salutem.  Nos  Prjppositua  et  SocH 
Beniores  CoUegii  sacrosanctje  et  individufe  Trinitatis  Reginae  Elizabethte  juxta  Dublin,  testa- 
mur, Samiieli  Johnson,  Armigero,  ob  egregiam  scriptorum  elegantiam  et  utilitatem,  gratiam 
concessam  fuisse  pro  gradu  Doctoratiis  in  utroque  Jure,  octavo  die  Julii,  Anno  Domini  mil- 
esiHiO  septingentesimo  sexagcsimo-quinto.     In  cujus  rei  testimonium  singulorum  manus  et 

1  This  young  man,  son  of  his  friend,  the  printer,  was  afterwards  Prebendary  of  Rochester, 
and  edited  Johnson's  "  Prayers  and  Meditations." — C. 


S92  LIFE    OP  JOHNSOi^.  1^**> 

eigillura  quo  In  hisce  utimur  apposuimus ;  vicesimo  tertio  die  Julii,  Ann*  Domini  milluelml 
Beptingentesimo  sexagesirao-quinto. 

GuL  Clement.       Fran.  Andrews.        R.  Murray. 
Tno.  Wilson.  Praep*.  Rob'us  Law. 

Tho.  Leland.  Mich.  Keabnbt." 

This  unsolicited  mark  of  distinction,  conferred  on  so  great  a  lite- 
rary  character,  did  much  honour  to  the  judgment  and  liberal  spirit 
of  that  learned  body.  Johnson  acknowledged  the  favour  in  a  letter 
to  Dr.  Leland,  one  of  their  number. 

Letter  <3^.  TO  THE  REV.  DR.  LELAND. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  London, 
"  Oct.  17, 1765. 

"  Sir, — Among  the  names  subscribed  to  the  degree  which  I  have  had  the 
honour  of  receiving  from  the  Univarsity  of  Dublin,  I  find  none  of  which  I 
have  any  personal  knowledge  but  those  of  Dr.  Andrews  and  yourself. 

"  Men  can  be  estimated  by  those  who  know  them  not,  only  as  they  are 
represented  by  those  who  know  them;  and  therefore  I  flatter  myself  that  I 
owe  much  of  the  pleasure  which  this  distinction  gives  me,  to  your  concurrence 
with  Dr.  Andrews  in  recommending  me  to  the  learned  society. 

"  Having  desired  tlie  Provost  to  return  my  general  thanks  to  the  University, 
I  bog  that  you,  Sir,  will  accept  my  particular  and  immediate  acknowledgments. 
I  am.  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant,   "  Sam.  Johnson."  * 

He  appears  this  year  to  have  been  seized  with  a  temporary  fit  of 
ambition,  for  he  had  thoughts  both  of  studying  law,  and  of  engaging 
in  politics.  His  "  Prayer  [p.  67]  before  the  Study  of  Law "  is 
truly  admirable  : — 

*'  Sept.  26,  1765.  Almighty  God,  the  giver  of  wisdom,  without  whose  help 
resolutions  are  vain,  without  whose  blessings  study  is  ineffectual ;  enable  me, 
if  it  be  thy  will,  to  attain  such  knowledge  as  may  qualify  me  to  direct  the 
doubtful,  and  instruct  the  ignorant ;  to  prevent  wrongs  and  terminate  conten- 
tions ;  and  grant  that  I  may  use  that  knowledge  which  I  shall  attain,  to  thy 
lory  and  my  own  salvation,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen." 

•  His  great  affection  for  our  own  universities,  and  particularly  his  attachment  to  Oxford, 
prevented  Johnson  from  receiving  this  lionour  as  it  was  intended,  and  he  never  assumed  tha 
title  which  it  conferred.  He  was  as  little  pleased  to  be  called  Doctor  in  consequence  of  it, 
as  he  was  with  the  title  of  Domine,  which  a  friend  of  his  once  incautiously  addressed  him  by. 
He  thought  it  alluded  to  his  having  been  a  sclioolmaster ;  and,  though  he  has  ably  vindicated 
Milton  from  the  reproach  that  Salmasius  meant  to  fix  on  him,  by  saying  that  he  was  of  that 
profession,  he  wished  to  have  it  forgotten,  that  himself  had  ever  been  driven  to  it  as  the  means 
Of  subsistence,  and  had  failed  in  the  attempt. — Hawkins. 


*''**•  56.  WILLIAM   GERARD   HAMILTON.  393 

His  prayer  in  the    view  of  becoming  a   politician  is   entitled 

"Engaging  in   Politics   with   H n,"  no  doubt,  his  friend,  the 

Right  Hon.  William  Gerard  Hamilton,  for  whom,  during  a  long 
acquaintance,  he  had  a  great  esteem,  and  to  whose  conversation  he 
once  paid  this  high  compliment :  "  I  am  very  unwilling  to  be  left 
alone.  Sir,  and  therefore  I  go  with  my  company  down  the  first  pair 
of  stairs,  in  some  hopes  that  they  may,  perhaps,  return  again  ;  I 
go  with  you,  Sir,  as  far  as  the  street  door."  In  wh&t  particular 
department  he  intended  to  engage*  does  not  appear,  nor  can  Mr. 
Hamilton  explain.  His  prayer  is  in  general  terms  :  "  Enlighten  my 
understanding  with  knowledge  of  right,  and  govern  my  will  by  thy 
laws,  that  no  deceit  may  mislead  me,  nor  temptation  corrupt  me  ; 
that  I  may  always  endeavour  to  do  good,  and  hinder  evil."  There 
is  nothing  upon  the  subject  in  his  diary. 

'  In  a  preface  to  a  late  collection  of  Mr.  Hamilton's  Pieces,  it  has  been  observed  that  cur 
author  was,  by  the  generality  of  Johnson's  words,  "led  to  suppose  that  he  was  seized  with  a 
temporary  fit  of  ambition,  and  that  hence  he  was  induced  to  apply  his  thoughts  to  law  and 
politics.  But  Mr.  Bosweil  was  certainly  mistal£en  in  this  respect :  and  these  words  merely 
allude  to  Johnson's  having  at  that  time  entered  into  some  engagement  with  Mr.  HamiltoK 
occasionally  to  furnish  hira  with  his  sentiments  on  the  great  political  topics  which  should  be 
©cisidered  in  parliament."  In  consequence  of  this  engagement,  Johnson,  in  November,  1766, 
wrote  a  very  valuable  tract,  entitled  "  Considerations  on  Corn,"  which  is  printed  as  an 
appendix  to  the  works  of  Mr.  Hamilton,  published  by  T.  Payne  in  1808. 


11» 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

1765—1766. 

(Acquaintance  with  the  Thrales — Publication  of  the  Edition  of  Shalispeare^-Kenrlck— Lettc.  to 
Boswell — Boswcll  returns  to  England — A'oltaire  on  Pope  and  Dryden — Goldsmith's  "  Tra- 
veller," and  "  Deserted  Village  " — Suppers  at  the  Mitre  resumed — "  Equal  Happiness  " — 
"  Courting  great  Men  " — Convents — Second  Sight — Corsica— Rousseau — Subordination — 
"  Maliing  Verses  " — Letters  to  Langton. 

This  year  was  distinguished  by  his  being  introduced  into  the  family 
of  Mr.  Tlirale,  one  of  tlie  most  eminent  brewers  in  England,  and 
member  of  parliament  for  the  borough  of  Southwark.  Foreigners 
are  not  a  little  amazed  when  they  hear  of  brewers,  distillers,  and 
men  in  similar  departments  of  trade,  held  forth  as  persons  of  consi- 
derable consequence.  In  this  great  commercial  country  it  is  natural 
that  a  situation  which  produces  much  wealth  should  be  considered 
as  very  respectable  ;  and,  no  doubt,  honest  industry  is  entitled  to 
esteem.  But,  perhaps,  the  too  rapid  advances  of  men  of  low  extrac- 
tion tends  to  lessen  the  value  of  that  distinction  by  birth  and  genti- 
lity, which  has  ever  been  found  beneficial  to  the  gr?,nd  scheme  of 
subordination.  Johnson  used  to  give  this  account  of  the  rise  of  Mr. 
Thrale's  father  :  "  He  worked  at  six  shillings  a  week  for  twenty 
years  in  the  great  brewery,  which  afterwards  was  his  own.  The 
proprietor  of  it'  had  an  only  daughter,  who  was  married  to  a  noble- 
man. It  was  not  fit  that  a  peer  should  continue  the  business.  On 
the  old  man's  death,  therefore,  the  brewery  was  to  be  sold.     To  find 

J  The  predecessor  of  old  Thrale  was  Edmund  Ilalsey,  Esq. ;  the  nobleman  who  married  hli 
daughter  was  Lord  Cobham,  gi-eat  uncle  to  the  Marquis  of  Buckingham.  But  I  believe  Dr. 
Johnson  was  mistaken  in  assigning  so  very  low  an  origin  to  Mr  Thrale.  The  clerk  of  St. 
Albans,  a  very  aged  man,  told  me,  that  he  (the  elder  Thrale)  married  a  sister  of  Mr.  Halsey. 
It  is  at  least  certain  that  the  family  of  Thrale  was  of  some  consideration  in  that  town  :  in  th« 
abbey  church  is  a  handsome  monument  to  the  memory  of  Mr.  John  Thrale,  late  of  London, 
merchant,  who  died  in  1704,  aged  54,  Margaret  his  wife,  and  three  of  their  children  who 
died  young,  between  the  years  1676  and  1690 : — Crest  on  a  ducal  coronet,  a  tree,  vert, 
Blakewat. 
394 


•^^^■^•^  THE    THRALE    FAMILY,  395 

1  purchaser  for  so  large  a  property  was  a  difficult  matter  ;  and,  after 
some  time,  it  was  suggested,  that  it  would  be  advisable  to  treat  with 
Thrale,  a  sensible,  active,  hoDest  man,  who  had  been  employed  in  . 
the  house,  and  to  transfer  the  whole  to  him  for  thirty  thousand 
pounds,  security  being  taken  upon  the  property.  This  was  accord 
ingly  settled.  In  eleven  years  Thrale  paid  the  purchase-money 
He  acquired  a  large  fortune,  and  lived  to  be  a  member  of  parlia- 
ment for  Southwark.  But  what  was  most  remarkable  was  the 
liberality  with  which  he  used  his  riches.  He  gave  his  son  and 
daughters  the  best  education.  The  esteem  which  his  good  conduct 
procured  him  from  the  nobleman  who  had  married  his  master's  daugh- 
ter, made  him  be  treated  with  much  attention  ;  and  his  son,  both  at 
Bchool  and  at  the  university  of  Oxford,  associated  with  young  men 
of  the  first  rank.  His  allowance  from  his  father,  after  he  left  col- 
lege, was  splendid  ;  not  less  than  a  thousand  a  year.  This,  in  a  man 
who  had  risen  as  old  Thrale  did,  was  a  very  extraordinary  instance 
of  generosity.  He  used,  to  say,  '  If  this  young  dog  does  not  find  so 
much  after  I  am  gone  as  he  expects,  let  him  remember  that  he  has 
had  a  great  deal  in  my  own  time.' " 

The  son,  though  in  affluent  circumstances,  had  good  sense 
enough  to  carry  on  his  father's  trade,  which  was  of  such  extent,  that 
I  remember  he  once  told  me,  he  would  not  quit  it  for  an  annuity  of 
ten  thousand  a  year  :  "  Not,"  said  he,  "  that  I  get  ten  thousand  a 
year  by  it,  but  it  is  an  estate  to  a  family."  Having  left  daughters 
only,  the  property  was  sold  for  the  immense  sum  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty-five  thousand  pounds  ;  a  magnificent  proof  of  what  may 
bo  done  by  fair  trade  in  a  long  period  of  time. 

There  may  be  some  who  think  that  a  new  system  of  gentility' 
might  be  established,  upon  principles  totally  different  from  what 
have  hitherto  prevailed.  Our  present  heraldry,  it  may  be  said,  is 
suited  to  the  barbarous  times  in  which  it  had  its  origin.   It  is  chiefly 

1  Mrs.  Burney  informs  me  that  she  heard  Dr.  Jolmson  say,  "  An  English  merchant  is  a  new 
pecies  of  gentleman."  He,  perhaps,  had  in  his  mind  the  foUowingingenious  passage  in  "  The 
Donscious  Lovers,"  Act  iv.  Scene  2,  where  Mr.  Sealand  thus  addresses  Sir  John  Bevil : — "  Give 
me  leave  to  say,  that  we  merchants  are  a  species  of  gentrj'  that  have  grown  into  the  world 
this  last  century,  and  are  as  hotourable,  and  almost  as  useful,  as  you  landed-folks,  that  have 
always  thought  yourselves  so  much  above  us ;  for  your  trading,  forsooth,  is  extended  no  far- 
ther than  a  load  of  hay,  or  a  fat  ox.  You  are  pleasant  people  indeed !  because  you  are  gene- 
rally ored  up  to  be  lazy,  therefore,  I  warrant  you,  industry  is  dishonourable."    *. 


396  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  I'**' 

founded  upon  ferocious  merit,  upon  military  excellence.  Why,  in 
civilized  times,  we  may  be  asked,  should'  there  not  be  rank  and 
.honours  upon  principles  which,  independent  of  long  custom,  are 
certainly  not  less  worthy,  and  which,  when  once  allowed  to  be  con- 
nected with  elevation  and  precedency,  would  obtain  the  same 
dignity  in  our  imagination  ?  Why  should  not  the  knowledge,  the 
skill,  the  expertness,  the  assiduity,  and  the  spirited,  hazards  of  trade 
and  commerce,  when  crowned  with  success,  be  entitled  to  give  those 
flattering  distinctions  by  which  ma.nkind  are  so  universally  cap- 
tivated ? 

Such  are  the  specious,  but  false  arguments  for  a  proposition  which 
always  will  find  numerous  advocates,  in  a  nation  where  men  are 
every  day  starting  up  from  obscurity  to  wealth.  To  refute  them  is 
needless.  The  general  sense  of  mankind  cries  out,  with  irresistible 
force,  "  Un  geniilhonime  est  toujours  gentilhommc." 

Mr.  Thrale  had  married  Miss  Hesther  Lynch  Salusbury,  of  good 
Welsh  extraction,  a  lady  of  lively  talents,  improved  by  education. 
That  Johnson's  introduction  into  Mr.  Thrale's  family,  which  contri- 
buted so  much  to  the  happiness  of  his  life,  was  owing  to  her  desire 
for  his  conversation,  is  a  very  probable  and  the  general  supposition  ; 
but  it  is  not  the  truth.  Mr.  Murphy,  who  was  intimate  with  Mr. 
Thrale,  having  spoken  very  highly  of  Dr.  Johnson,  he  was  requested 
to  make  them  acquainted.  This  being  mentioned  to  Johnson,  he 
accepted  of  an  invitation  to  dinner  at  Thrale's,  and  was  so  much 
pleased  with  his  reception,  both  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale,  and  they 
so  much  pleased  with  him,  that  his  invitations  to  the  house  were 
more  and  more  frequent,  till  at  last  he  became  one  of  the  family, 
and  an  apartment  was  appropriated  to  him,  both  in  their  house  at 
Southwark  and  in  their  villa  at  Strcatham.* 

1  The  first  time  I  ever  saw  this  extraordinary  man  was  in  the  year  1764,  when  Mr.  Murphy, 
who  had  long  been  the  friend  and  confidential  intimate  of  Mr.  Thrale,  persuaded  him  to  wish 
for  Jolinson's  conversation,  extolling  it  in  terms  which  that  of  no  other  person  could  have 
deserved,  till  we  were  only  in  doubt  how  to  obtain  his  company,  and  find  an  excuse  for  the 
invitation.  The  celebrity  of  Mr.  Woodhouse,  a  shoemaker,  whose  verses  were  at  that  time 
the  subject  of  common  discourse,  soon  afforded  a  pretence,  and  Mr.  Murphy  brought  Johnson  to 
meet  him,  giving  me  general  cautions  not  to  be  surprised  at  his  figure,  dress,  or  behaviour. 
What  I  recollect  best  of  the  day's  talk  was  his  earnestly  recommending  Addison's  works  to 
Mr.  Woodhouse  as  a  model  for  imitation.  "  Give  nights  and  days,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  to  the  study 
of  Addison,  if  you  mean  either  to  be  a  good  writer,  or,  what  is  more  worth,  an  honest  man  '* 
When  I  saw  something  like  the  same  expression  in  his  criticism  on  that  author,  lately  pui^* 


^T-iT.  66.  jiRS,    THRALE.  B91 

Johnson  had  a  very  sincere  esteem  for  Mr.  Thrale,  as  a  man  of 
excellent  principles,  a  good  scholar,  well  skilled  in  trade,  of  a  sound 
inderstanding,  and  of  manners  such  as  presented  the  character  of  a 
plain  independent  English  'squire.  As  this  family  will  frequently  be 
mentioned  in  the  course  of  the  following  pages,  and  as  a  false  notion 
has  prevailed  that  Mr.  Thrale  was  inferior,  and  in  some  degree  in- 
significant, compared  with  Mrs.  Thrale,  it  may  be  proper  to  give  a 
true  state  of  the  case  from  the  authority  of  Johnson  himself  in  his 
own  words. 

"  I  know  of  no  man,"  said  he,  "  who  is  more  master  of  his  wife 
and  family  than  Thrale.  If  he  but  holds  up  a  finger,  he  is  obeyed. 
It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  she  is  above  him  in  literary  at- 
tainments. She  is  more  flippant  ;  but  he  has  ten  times  her  learning  : 
he  is  a  regular  scholar  ;  but  her  learning  is  that  of  a  schoolboy  in 
one  of  the  lower  forms."  My  readers  may  naturally  wish  for  some 
representation  of  the  figures  of  this  couple.  Mr.  Thrale  was  tall, 
well  proportioned,  and  stately.  As  for  Madam,  or  my  Mistress,  by 
which  epithets  Johnson  used  to  mention  Mrs.  Thrale,  she  was  short, 
plump,  and  brisk.*  She  has  herself  given  us  a  lively  view  of  the 
idea  which  Johnson  had  of  her  person,  on  her  appearing  before  him 
in  a  dark-coloured  gown  :  "You  little  creatures  should  never  wear 
those  sort  of  clothes,  however  ;  they  are  unsuitable  in  every  way. 
What !  have  not  all  insects  gay  colours  ?"  '  Mr.  Thrale  gave  his 
wife  a  liberal  indulgence,  both  in  the  choice  of  their  company,  and 
in  the  mode  of  entertaining  them.  He  understood  and  valued  John- 
son, without  remission,  from  their  first  acquaintance  to  the  day  of 
his  death.  Mrs.  Thrale  was  enchanted  with  Johnson's  conversation 
for  its  own  sake,  and  had  also  a  very  allowable  vanity  in  appearing 
to  be  honoured  with  the  attention  of  so  celebrated  a  man. 

Nothing  could  be  more  fortunate  for  Johnson  than  this  connection. 
He  had  at  Mr.  Thrale's  all  the  comforts  and  even  luxuries  of  life  ; 

lished  [in  the  Lives  of  the  Poets],  I  put  him  in  mind  of  his  past  injunctions  to  the  young  poet, 
to  which  he  replied,  "  That  he  wished  the  shoemaker  might  have  remembered  them  as  weii." 
Mr.  Johnson  liked  his  new  acquaintance  so  much,  however,  that  from  that  time  he  dined  with 
as  every  Thursday  through  the  winter. — Piozzi. 

'  Mrs.  Thr.-ile  was  about  twenty-four  or  twenty -five  yeai-s  of  age,  when  this  acquaintanc* 
icmmenced ;  It  not  being  quite  clear  whether  she  was  born  in  January,  ■'740,  or  1741.— G. 

'  Mrt!.  Piczzi's  Anecdotes,  p.  279. 


S§8  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^"^^ 

his  melancholy  was  diverted,  aud  his  irregular  habits  lessened  by  asso- 
ciation.with  an  agreeable  and  well-ordered  family.  He  was  treated 
with  the  utmost  respect,  and  even  affection.  The  vivacity  of  Mrs, 
Thrale's  literary  talk  roused  him  to  cheerfulness  and  exertion,  even 
when  they  were  alone.  But  this  was  not  often  the  case  ;  for  he 
found  here  a  constant  succession  of  what  gave  him  the  highest  enjoy- 
ment, the  society  of  the  learned,  the  witty,  and  the  eminent  in  every 
way  ;  who  were  assembled  in  numerous  companies,  called  forth  his 
wonderful  powers,  and  gratified  him  with  admiration,  to  which  no 
man  could  be  insensible. 

In  the  October  of  this  year  he  at  length  gave  to  the  world  hia 
edition  of  Shakspeare,  which,  if  it  had  no  other  merit  but  that  of 
producing  his  Preface,  in  which  the  excellences  and  defects  of  that 
immortal  bard  are  displayed  with  a  masterly  hand,  the  nation  would 
have  had  no  reason  to  complain.'  A  blind  indiscriminate  admiration 
of  Shakspeare  had  exposed  the  British  nation  to  the  ridicule  of 
foreigners.  Johnson,  by  candidly  admitting  the  faults  of  his  poet, 
had  the  more  credit  in  bestowing  on  him  deserved  and  indisputable 
praise  ;  and  doubtless  none  of  all  his  panegyrists  have  done  him 
half  so  much  honour.  Their  praise  was  like  that  of  a  counsel,  upon 
his  own  side  of  the  cause  :  Johnson's  was  like  the  grave,  well-con- 
sidered, and  impartial  opinion  of  the  judge,  which  falls  from  his 
lips  with  weight,  and  is  received  with  reverence.  What  he  did  as  a 
commentator  has  no  small  share  of  merit,  though  his  researches  were 
not  so  ample,  and  his  investigations  so  acute,  as  they  might  have 
been  ;  which  we  now  certainly  know  from  the  labours  of  other  able 
and  ingenious  critics  who  have  followed  him.  He  has  enriched  his 
edition  with  a  concise  account  of  each  play,  and  of  its  characteristic 

'  Johnson  was  insensible  to  Churchill's  abuse,  but  the  poem  before  mentioned  had  brought 
to  remembrance  that  his  edition  of  Shakspeare  had  long  been  due.  His  friends  took  the 
alarm,  and  by  all  the  arts  of  reasoning  and  persuasion,  laboured  to  convince  him  that,  hav- 
ing taken  subscriptions  for  a  work  in  which  he  had  made  no  progi'ess,  his  credit  was  at  stake. 
He  confessed  he  was  culpable,  and  promised  from  time  to  time  to  begin  a  course  of  such  read- 
ing as  was  necessary  to  qualify  him  for  the  work  :  this  was  no  more  than  he  had  formerly 
done  in  an  engagement  with  Coxeter,  to  whom  he  had  bound  himself  to  write  the  Life  of 
Shakspeare,  but  he  never  could  be  prevailed  on  to  begin  it,  so  that  even  now  it  was  ques- 
tioi.ed  whether  his  promises  were  to  be  relied  on.  For  this  reason  Sir  Joshua  Keynolds  and 
gome  other  of  his  friends,  who  were  more  concerned  for  his  reputation  than  himself  seemed  to 
be,  contrived  to  entangle  him  by  a  wager,  or  some  other  pecuniary  engagement,  to  perl  ^rm 
his  task  by  a  certain  time. — Hawkins. 


^TAT.  M.  PREFACE    TO    SHAKSPEARE VOLTAIRE. 


399 


excellence.  Many  of  his  notes  have  illustrated  obscurities  in  the 
text,  and  ploced  passages  eminent  for  beauty  in  a  more  conspicuous 
light ;  and  he  has,  in  general,  exhibited  such  a  mode  of  annotation, 
as  may  be  beneficial  to  all  subsequent  editors. 

His  Shakspeare  was  virulently  attacked  by  Mr.  William  Kenrick, 
who  obtained  the  degree  of  LL.D.  from  a  Scotch  university,  and 
wrote  for  the  booksellers  in  a  great  variety  of  branches.  Though 
he  certainly  was  not  without  considerable  merit,  he  wrote  with  sc 
little  regard  to  decency,  and  principles,  and  decorum,  and  in  so  hasty 
a  manner,  that  his  reputation  was  neither  extensive  nor  lasting.  I 
remember  one  evening,  when  some  of  his  works  were  mentioned.  Dr. 
Goldsmith  said,  he  had  never  heard  of  them  ;  upon  which  Dr.  John- 
son observed,  "  Sir,  he  is  one  of  the  many  who  have  made  them- 
selves public,  without  making  themselves  known."  ' 
-  A  young  student  of  Oxford,  of  the  name  of  Barclay,  wrote  an 
answer  to  Kenrick's  review  of  Johnson's  Shakspeare.  Johnson  was 
at  first  angry  that  Kenrick's  attack  should  have  the  credit  of  an 
answer.  But  afterwards,  considering  the  young  man's  good  inten- 
tiou,  he  kindly  noticed  him,  and  probably  would  have  done  more, 
bad  not  the  young  man  died. 

In  his  Preface  to  Shakspeare,  Johnson  treated  Voltaire  very  con- 
temptuously, observing,  upon  some  of  his  remarks,  "  These  are  the 
petty  cavils  of  petty  minds."  Voltaire^  in  revenge,  made  an  attack 
upon  Johnson,  in  one  of  his  numerous  literary  sallies  which  I  remem- 
ber to  have  read  ;  but  there  being  no  general  index  to  his  volumin- 
ous works,  have  searched  in  vain,  and  therefore  cannot  quote  it.' 
Voltaire  was  an  antagonist  with  whom  I  thought  Johnson  should 

1  Kenrick  was  born  at  Watford,  Herts,  and  was  brought  up  to  the  business  of  a  rule-maker, 
which  he  quitted  for  literature.  He  began  his  career  with  poetry,  and  next  turned  critic  in 
the  Monthly  Review.  Of  this  "  attack,"  entitled  "  A  Review  of  Dr.  Johnson's  new  edition  of 
Shakspeare  ;  in  which  the  Ignorance  or  Inattention  of  that  Editor  is  exposed,  and  the  Poet 
aeiended  from  the  Persecution  of  his  Commentators,"  Dr.  Johnson  only  said,  "  He  did  not 
think  himself  bound  by  Kenrick's  rules."  He  wrote  two  plays  without  success,  and  in  1T72 
was  involved  in  a  lawsuit  with  Garrick.  In  1774  he  delivered  Lectures  on  Shakspeare, 
and  the  next  year   commenced  the   London   Rtview,   which  he  continued  to  his  death, 

June  10,  1779. 

a  "  Je  ne  veux  point  soup?onner  le  sieur  Jonson  d'etre  un  mauvais  plaisant,  et  d  aimer  trop 
le  vln  •  mais  je  trouve  un  peu  singulier  qu'il  compte  la  bouffonnerie  et  Tivrognerie  parmi  le» 
beautes  du  theatre  tragique;"  ic.  &c.-Dictionnaire  Philosopliique,  art.  "Art  DramafoMe." 
Voltaire,  edit.  17S1,  toI.  xxxviiL  p.  10. 


400  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ****• 

not  disdain  to  contend.     I  pressed  him  to  answer.     He  said,  he 
perhaps  might  ;  but  he  never  did. 

Letter  94.  TO  DR.  JOSEPH  WARTON. 

"  Oct.  9, 1766. 

"Dear  Sir, — Mrs.  Warton  uses  me  hardly  in  supposing  that  I  could  forget 
so  much  kindness  and  civility  as  she  shewed  me  at  Winchester.  I  remember, 
likewise,  our  conversation  about  St.  Cross.*  The  desire  of  seeing  her  again 
will  be  one  of  the  motives  that  will  bring  me  into  Hampshire. 

"  I  have' taken  care  of  your  book;  being  so  far  from  doubting  your  sub 
scription,  that  I  think  you  have  subscribed  twice  :  you  once  paid  your  guinea 
into  my  own  hand  in  the  garret  in  Gough  Square.  When  you  light  on  your 
receipt,  throw  it  on  the  fire  ;  if  you  find  a  second  receipt,  you  may  have  a 
second  book. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  as  I  felt  no  solicitude  about  this  work,  I  receive  no  great, 
comfort  from  its  conclusion ;  but  yet  am  well  enough  pleased  that  the  pubhc 
has  no  farther  claim  upon  me.  I  wish  you  would  write  more  frequently  to, 
dear  Sir,  your  aifectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Mr.  Burney  having  occasion  to  write  to  Johnson  for  some  receipts 
for  subscriptions  to  his  Shakspeare,  which  Johnson  had  omitted  to 
deliver  when  the  money  was  paid,  he  availed  himself  of  that  oppor- 
tunity of  thanking  Johnson  for  the  great  pleasure  which  he  had 
received  from  the  perusal  of  his  Preface  to  Shakspeare  ;  which, 
although  it  excited  much  clajjiour  against  him  at  first,  is  now  justly 
ranked  among  the  most  excellent  of  his  writings.  To  this  lettei 
Johnson  returned  the  following  answer  : — 

Letter  95.  TO  CHARLES  BURNEY,  ESQ. 

In  Poland  Street. 

"  Oct.  16, 1766. 

"  Sir, — I  am  sorry  that  your  kindness  to  me  has  brought  upon  you  so  much 
trouble,  though  you  have  taken  care  to  abate  that  sorrow,  by  the  pleasure 
which  I  receive  from  your  approbation.  I  defend  my  criticism  in  the  same 
manner  with  you.  We  must  confess  the  faults  of  our  favourite,  to  gain  credit 
to  our  praise  of  his  excellencies.  He  that  claims,  either  in  himself  or  for  an- 
other, the  honours  of  perfection,  will  surely  injure  the  reputation  which  he 
designs  to  assist.  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  your  family.  lam. 
Sir,  you  most  obliged  and  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

From  one  of  his  Journals  I  transcribed  what  follows  ; — 


•^'-^T-  5^  DEDICATIONS,  401 

"  At  church,  Oct.  —  65. 

"  To  avoid  all  singularity  :  Bonavcntnra} 

"  To  come  iu  before  service,  and  compose  my  mind  by  meditation, 
^r  by  reading  some  portion  of  the  scripture.     Tetty. 

"  If  I  can  hear  the  sermon,  to  attend  it,  unless  attention  be  mora 
troublesome  than  useful. 

"  To  consider  the  act  of  prayer  as  a  reposal  of  myself  upon  God, 
and  a  resignation  of  all  into  his  holy  hand." 

In  11  Gl  and  17G5  it  should  seem  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  so  busily 
employed  with  his  edition  of  Shakspcare,  as  to  have  had  little 
leisure  for  any  other  literary  exertion,  or,  indeed,  even  for  private 
correspondence.  He  did  not  favour  me  with  a  single  letter  for  more 
than  two  years,  for  which  it  will  appear  that  he  afterwards  apolo- 
gised. 

He  was,  however,  at  all  times  ready  to  give  assistance  to  his 
friends,  and  others,  in  revising  their  works,  and  in  writing  for  them, 
or  greatly  improving  their  Dedications.  In  that  courtly  species  of 
composition  no  man  excelled  Dr.  Johnson.  Though  the  loftiness  of 
his  mind  prevented  him  from  ever  dedicating  in  his  own  person,  he 
wrote  a  very  great  number. of  Dedications  for  others.  Some  of 
these,  the  persons  who  were  favoured  with  them,  are  unwilling 
should  be  mentioned,  from  a  too  anxious  apprehension,  as  I  think, 
that  they  might  be  suspected  of  having  received  larger  assistance  ; 
and  some,  after  all  the  diligence  I  have  bestowed,  have  escaped  my 
inquiries.  He  told  me,  a  great  many  years  ago,  "  he  believed  he 
had  dedicated  to  all  the  Royal  Family  around  :"  and  it  was  indiifer- 
ent  to  him  what  was  the  subject  of  the  work  dedicated,  provided 
it  were  innocent.  He  once  dedicated  some  music  for  the  German 
Flute  to  Edward,  Duke  of  York.  In  writing  dedications  for  others, 
he  considered  himself  as  by  no  means  speaking  his  own  sentiments. 

Notwithstanding  his  long  silence,  I  never  omitted  to  write  to  him, 
when  I  had  anything  worthy  of  commuuicating.  I  generally  kept 
copies  of  my  letters  to  him,  that  I  might  have  a  full  view  of  our 
correspondence,  and  never  be  at  a  loss  to  understand  any  reference 
in  his  letters.     He  kept  the  greater  part  of  mine  very  carefully  ; 

»  He  was  probably  proposing  to  himself  the  model  of  this  excellent  person,  wtio  foi  kji 
piety  waf  named  the  Seraphic  Doctor, 


4.U2  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^*'*- 

and  a  short  time  before  his  death  was  attentive  enough  to  seal 
them  up  in  bundles,  and  ordered  them  to  be  delivered  to  me,  which 
was  accordingly  done.  Amongst  them  I  found  one,  of  which  1  had 
not  made  a  copy,  and  which  I  own  I  read  with  pleasure  at  the  dis 
tance  of  almost  twenty  years.  It  is  dated  November,  1765,  at  the 
palace  of  Pascal  Paoli,  in  Corte,  the  capital  of  Corsica,  and  is  full 
of  generous  enthusiasm.  After  giving  a  sketch  of  what  I  had  seen 
and  heard  in  that  island,  it  proceeded  thus  :  "  I  dare  to  call  this  a 
spirited  tour,     I  dare  to  challenge  your  approbation." 

This  letter  produced  the  following  answer,  which  I  found  on  my 
arrival  at  Paris! 

Letter  96.  A  M.  M.  BOSWELL, 

Oliez  Mr.  Waters,  Banquier,  a  Paris. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  Jan.  14, 1766. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Apologies  are  seldom  of  auy  use.  We  will  delay  till  your 
arrival  the  reasons,  good  or  bad,  which  have  made  me  such  a  sparing  and 
ungrateful  correspondent.  Be  assured,  for  the  present,  that  nothing  has 
lessened  either  the  esteem  or  love  with  which  I  dismissed  you  at  Harwich. 
Both  have  been  increased  by  all  that  I  have  been  told  of  you  by  yourself  or 
others  ;  and  when  you  return,  you  will  return  to  an  unaltered,  and,  I  hope, 
unalterable  friend. 

"  All  that  you  have  to  fear  from  me  is  the  vexation  of  disappointing  me. 
No  man  loves  to  frustrate  expectations  which  have  been  formed  in  his  favour  ; 
and  the  pleasure  which  I  promise  myself  from  your  journals  and  remarks  is  so 
great,  that  perhaps  no  degree  of  attention  or  discernment  will  be  sufficient  to 
afford  it. 

"  Come  home,  however,  and  take  your  chance.     I  long  to  see  you,  and  to 
heai  you ;  and  hope  that  we  shall   not  be   so   long   separated  again.     Como 
home,  and  expect  such  welcome  as  is  due  to  him,  whom  a  wise    and   noble" 
curiosity  has  led,  where  perhaps  no  native  of  this  country  ever  was  before. 

"  I  have  no  news  to  tell  you  that  can  deserve  your  notice  ;  nor  would  I 
willingly  lessen  the  pleasure  that  any  novelty  may  give  you  at  your  return.  1 
am  afraid  we  shall  find  it  difficult  to  keep  among  us  a  mind  which  has  beeu 
BO  lOng  feasted  with  variety.  But  let  us  try  what  esteem  and  kindness  can 
Effef»t. 

"As  your  father's  liberality  has  indulged  you  with  so  long  a  ramble,  I  doubt 
not  but  you  will  think  his  sickness,  or  even  his  desire  to  see  you,  a  sufficient 
reason  for  hastening  your  return.  The  longer  we  live,  and  the  more  we  think, 
the  higher  value  we  learn  to  put  on  the  friendship  and  tenderness  of  parents 
and  of  friends.     Parents  we  can  have  but  once  ;  and  he  promises  himself  too 


^TAT  57.  BOSWEIX'S    RETURJJ.  403 

mucli,  who  enters  life  with  the    expectation    of  finding  many  fiiends.     Upon 

some  motive,  I  hope,  that  you  will  be  here  soon  ;  and  am  willing  to  think  that 

It  will  be  an  inducement  to  your  return,  that  it  is  sincerely  desired  by,  dear  Sir, 

your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  97.  TO    MRS.    LUCY   PORTER. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  Jan.  14,  1766. 

"  Dear  Madam, — The  reason  why  I  did  not  answer  your  letters  was  that  t 
can  please  myself  with  no  answer.  I  was  loth  that  Kitty  should  leave  th^  *• 
house  till  I  had'  seen  it  once  more,  and  yet  for  some  reasons  I  cannot  well  come 
during  the  session  of  parliament.  I-  am  unwilling  to  sell  it,  yet  hardly  know 
why.  If  it  can  be  let,  it  should  be  repaired,  and  I  purpose  to  let  Kitty  have 
part  of  the  rent  while  we  both  live  ;  and  wish  that  you  would  get  it  surveyed, 
and  lot  me  know  how  much  money  will  be  necessary  to  fit  it  for  a  tenant.  I 
would  not  have  you  stay  longer  than  is  convenient,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
care  of  Kitty. 

"  Do  not  take  my  omission  amiss.     I  am  sorry  for  it,  but  know  not  what  to 

nay.     You  must  act  by  your  own  prudence,  and  I  shall  be  pleased.     Write  to 

me  again ;  I  do  not  design  to  neglect  you  any  more.     It  is  great  pleasure  for 

rae  to  hear  from  you  ;  but  this  whole  affair  is  painful  to  me.     I  wish  you,  my 

dear,  many  happy  years.     Give   my  respects  to  Kitty.     I   am,  dear  madam, 

your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."  * 

I  returned  to  London  in  February,  and  found  Dr.  Johnson  in  a 
good  hou>;e  in  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  in  which  he  had 
accommodated  Miss  Williams  with  an  apartment  on  the  ground 
floor,  wliile  Mr,  Levet  occupied  his  post  in  tlie  garret :  his  faitliful 
Francis  was  still  attending  upon  him.  He  received  me  with  much 
kindness.  The  fragments  of  our  first  conversation,  which  I  have 
preserved,  are  these  :  I  told  him  that  Voltaire,  in  a  conversation 
with  me,  had  distinguished  Pope  and  Drydeu  thus  : — "  Pope  drives 
a  handsome  chariot,  with  a  couple  of  neat  trim  nags  ;   Dryden  a 

1  In  the  Memoirs  of  Dr.  Warton,  p.  312,  we  find  a  letter  (dated  Jan.  22,  1766)  from  him  to 
his  brother,  giving  some  account  of  Johnson  and  his  society  at  this  period : — "  I  only  dined 
with  Johnson,  who  seemed  cold  and  indifferent,  and  scarce  said  anything  to  me  ;  perhaps  he 
has  heard  what  I  said  of  his  Shakspeare,  or  rather  was  offended  at  what  I  wrote  to  him — as 
he  pleases.  Of  all  solemn  coxcombs,  Goldsmith  is  the  first;  yet  sensible — but  affects  to  use 
Johnson's  hard  words  in  conversation.  We  had  a  Mr.  Dyer,  who  is  a  scholar  and  a  gentle- 
man. Gairick  is  entirely  off  from  Johnson,  and  cannot,  he  says,  forgive  him  his  insinuating 
that  ho  withheld  his  (Id  editions,  which  always  were  open  to  him,  nor  I  suppose  his  neve» 
jnentloning  him  in  .all  his  works  " — C 


404  ■  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  1^^^- 

coach,  and  six  stately  horses."  '  Johnson.  Why,  Sir,  the  truth  is 
they  both  drive  coaches  and  six  ;  but  Dryden's  horses  are  either 
galloping  or  stumbling  :  Pope's  go  at  a  steady  even  trot." '  He 
said  of  Goldsmith's  "  Traveller,"  which  had  been  published  in  my 
ibsence,  "  There  has  not  been  so  fine  a  poem  since  Pope's  time." 

And  here  it  is  proper  to  settle,  with  authentic  precision,  what  has 
long  floated  in  public  report,  as  to  Johnson's  being  himself  the 
author  of  a  considerable  part  of  that  poem.  Much,  no  doubt,  both 
of  the  sentiments  and  expression,  were  derived  from  conversation 
with  him  ;  and  it  was  certainly  submitted  to  his  friendly  revisiim  : 
but,  in  the  year  1183,  he,  at  my  request,  marked  with  a  pencil  the 
lines  which  he  had  furnished,  which  are  only  line  420th  • — 

"  To  stop  too  fearful,  and  too  faint  to  go  ;" 

and  the  concluding  ten  lines,  except  the  last  couplet  but  one,  which 
T  distinguish  by  the  Italic  character  : 

"  How  small  of  all  that  human  hearts  endure, 
That  part  which  kings  or  laws  can  cause  or  cure ! 
Still  to  ourselves  in  every  place  consign'd, 
Our  own  felicity  we  make  or  find : 
With  secret  course,  which  no  loud  storms  annoy, 
Glides  the  smooth  current  of  domestic  joy. 
The  lifted  axe,  the  agonizing  wheel, 
Luke'H  iron  crown,  and  Damien''s  bed  of  steel, 
To  men  remote  from  power,  but  rarely  known, 
Leave  reason,  faith,  and  conscience,  all  our  own." 

He  added,  "  These  are  all  of  which  I  can  be  sure."  They  bear  a 
small  proportion  to  the  whole,  which  consists  of  four  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  verses.  Goldsmith,  m  the  couplet  which  he  inserted, 
mentions  Luke  as  a  person  well  known,  and  superficial  readers  have 

1  It  is  remarkable  that  Mr.  Gray  has  employed  somewhat  the  same  image  to  charac- 
terise Dryden.     He,  indeed,  furnishes  his  car  wiih  but  two  horses;  but  they  are  of  "ethe" 

real  race  :" — 

"  Behold  where  Dryden's  less  presumptuous  car 

Wide  o'er  the  fields  of  glory  bear 

Two  coursers  of  ethereal  race, 

With  necks  in  thunder  clothed,  and  long  resounding  pace." 

2  "The  sty.e  of  l>ryden  is  capacious  and  varied  ;  that  of  Pope  is  cautious  and  uniform 
Dryden  observes  the  motions  of  his  own  mind  ;  Pope  constrains  his  mind  to  his  own  rules  of 
toniposltion,"  Ac.  Ac. — Johnson,  Life  of  Pope. 


^'^^'^■^'^-  THE   DESERTED   VILLAGE.  465 

passed  it  over  quite  smoothly  ;  while  those  of  more  attention  have 
^een  ai  mucli  perplexed  by  Luke,  as  by  Lydiat,  in  "  The  Vanity 
-■jf  Buman  Wishes."  The  truth  is,  that  Goldsmith  himself  was  in  a 
nfiistakc.  In  the  "  liespublica  Ilnngarica"  there  is  an  account  of  a 
desperate  rebellion  in  the  year  1514,  beaded  by  two  brothers,  of  the 
name  of  Zeck,  George  and  Luke.  When  it  was  quelled,  George,  not 
Luke,  was  punished,  by  his  head  being"  encircled  with  a  redhot  iron 
crown  ;  "corona  ccindescente  ferrea  coronatur."  The  same  severity  of 
torture  was  exercised  on  the  Earl  of  Athol,  one  of  the  murderers  of 
King  James  I.  of  Scotland. 

Dr.  Johnson  at  the  same  time  favoured  me  by  marking  the  lines 
which  he  furnished  to  Goldsmith's  "  Deserted  Village,"  which  are 
only  the  last  four  : 

"  That  trade's  proud  empire  hastes  to  swift  decay, 
As  ocean  sweeps  the  labourd  mole  away : 
While  self-dependent  power  can  time  defy. 
As  rocks  resist  the  billows  and  the  sky." 

Talking  of  education,  "People  have  now  a-days,"  said  he,  "got  a 
strange  opinion  that  everything  should  be  taught  by  lectures.  Now, 
I  cannot  see  that  lectures  can  do  so  much  good  as  reading  the  books 
from  which  the  lectures  arc  taken.  I  know  nothing  that  can  be  best 
taught  by  lectures,  except  where  experiments  are  to  be  shewn. 
You  may  teach  chemistry  by  lectures ; — you  might  teach  making  of 
shoes  by  lectures  !" 

At  night  I  supped  with  him  at  the  Mitre  tavern,  that  we  might 
renew  our  social  intimacy  at  the  original  place  of  meeting.  But 
there  was  now  a  considerable  difference  in  his  way  of  living. 
Having  had  an  illness,  in  which  he  was  advised  to  leave  off  wine,  he 
had,  from  that  period,  continued  to  abstain  from  it,  and  drank  only 
water,  or  lemonade. 

I  told  him  that  a  foreign  friend  of  his,  whom  I  had  met  with 
abroad,  was  so  wretchedly  perverted  to  infidelity,  that  he  treated  the 
hopes  of  immortality  with  brutal  levity  ;  and  said,  "  As  man  dies  like 
a  dog,  let  him  lie  like  a  dog."  Johnson.  "  If  he  dies  like  a  dog,  ki 
him  lie  like  a  dog."  I  added,  that  this  man  said  to  me,  "  I  hate 
mankind,  for  I  think   myself  one  of  the  best  of  them,  and  I  know 


406  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^ 

Low  bad  I  am."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  be  must  be  very  singular  in  his 
opinion,  if  he  thinks  himself  cue  of  the  best  of  men  ;  for  none  of 
his  frieuds  think  hira  so." — He  said,  "  No  honest  man  could  be  a 
Deist  ;  for  no  man  could  be  so  after  a  fair  examination  of  the  proofs 
of  Christianity."  I  named  Hume.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  Hume 
owned  tcT  a  clergyman  in  the  bishopric  of  Durham,  that  hie  had 
never  read  the  New  Testament  with  attention."  —  I  mentioned 
Hume's  notion,  that  all  who  are  happy  are  equally  happy  ;  a  little 
miss  with  a  new  gown  at  a  dancing-school  ball,  a  general  at  the 
head  of  a  victorious  army,  and  an  orator  after  having  made  an  elo- 
quent speech  in  a  great  assembly.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  that  all  who  are 
happy,  are  equally  happy,  is  not  true.  A  peasant  and  a  philosopher 
may  be  equally  satisfied,  but  not  equally  happy.  Happiness  consists 
in  the  multiplicity  of  agreeable  consciousness.  A  peasant  has  not 
capacity  for  having  equal  happiness  with  a  philosopher."  I  remem- 
ber this  very  question  very  happily  illustrated,  in  opposition  to 
Hume,  by  the  Kev.  Mr.  Robert  Brown,  at  Utrecht.  "A  small 
drinking-glass  and  a  large  one,"  said  he,  "  may  be  equally  full ;  but 
the  large  one  holds  more  than  the  small." 

Dr.  Johnson  was  very  kind  this  evening,  and  said  to  me,  "  You 
have  now  lived  five-and-twenty  years,  and  you  have  employed  them 
well."  "  Alas,  Sir,"  said  I,  "  I  fear  not.  Do  I  know  history  ?  Do 
I  know  mathematics  ?  Do  I  know  law  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir, 
though  you  may  know  no  science  so  well  as  to  be  able  to  teach  it, 
and  no  profession  so  well  as  to  be  able  to  follow  it,  your  general 
mass  of  knowledge  of  books  and  men  renders  you  very  capable  to 
make  yourself  master  of  any  science,  or  fit  yourself  for  any  profes- 
sion." I  mentioned,  that  a  gay  friend  had  advised  me  against  being 
a  lawyer,  because  I  should  be  excelled  by  plodding  blockheads. 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  in  the  formulary  and  statutory  part  of  law,  a 
plodding  blockhead  may  excel  ;  but  in  the  ingenious  and  rational 
part  of  it,  a  plodding  blockhead  can  never  excel." 

I  talked  of  the  mode  adopted  by  some  to  rise  in  the  world,  by 
courting  great  men,  and  asked  him  whether  he  had  ever  submitted 
to  it.  Johnson.  "Why,  Sir,  I  never  was  near  enough  to  great 
men,  to  court  them.  You  may  be  prudently  attached  to  great  men, 
and  yet  independent.     You  are  not  to  do  what  you  think  wrong , 


*"''-5'-  CONVKNi'S SECOND    SlOllT.  40T 

auU,  Sir,  you  are  to  calcuhitc,  and  not  pay  too  dear  for  what  you 
get.  You  must  not  give  a  shilling's  worth  of  court  for  sixpence 
worth  of  good.  But  if  you  can  get  a  shilling's  worth  of  good  for 
sixpence  worth  of  court,  you  are  a  fool  if  you  do  not  pay  court." 

He  said,  "  If  convents  should  be  allowed  at  all,  they  should  only  be 
retreats  for  persons  unable  to  serve  the  public,  or  who  have  served  it. 
It  is  our  first  duty  to  serve  society,  and,  after  we  have  done  that, 
we  may  attend  wholly  to  the  salvation  of  our  own  souls.  A  youth- 
ful passion  for  abstracted  devotion  should  not  be  encouraged." 

I  iiitroiluced  the  subject  of  second  sight,  and  other  niysteriou'5 
manifestations  ;  the  fulfilment  of  which,  I  suggested,  might  happen 
by  chance.  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir,  but  they  have  hapi)cned  so  ofteu 
that  mankind  have  agreed  to  think  them  not  fortuitous." 

I  talked  to  him  a  great  deal  of  what  I  had'  seen  in  Corsica,  and 
of  my  intention  to  publish  an  account  of  it.  He  encouraged  me  by 
saying,  "  You  cannot  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  subject  ;  but  all  that 
you  tell  us  will  be  new  to  us.  Give  us  as  many  anecdotes  as  you 
can." 

Our  next  meeting  at  the  ^Mitre  was  on  Saturday  the  15th  of 
February,  when  I  presented  to  him  my  old  and  most  intimate  friend, 
the  Eev.  Mr.  Temple,'  then  of  Cambridge.  I  having  mentioned  that 
I  had  passed  some  time  with  Rousseau  in  his  wild  retreat,  and 
having  quoted  some  remark  made  by  Mr.  Wilkes,  with  whom  I  had 
spent  many  pleasant  hours  in  Italy,  Johnson  said,  sarcastically: 
"  It  seems.  Sir,  you  have  kept  very  good  company  abroad — Rous- 
seau and  Wilkes  !"  Thinking  it  enough  to  defend  one  at  a  time,  I 
said  nothing  as  to  my  gay  friend,  but  answered  with  a  smile,  "  My 
dear  Sir,  you  don't  call  Rousseau  bad  company.  Do  you  really 
think  /lim  a  bad  man  ?"  Johnsox.  "  Sir,  if  you  are  talking  jestingly 
of  this,  I  don't  talk  with  you.  If  you  mean  to  be  serious,  I  think 
him  one  of  the  worst  of  men  ;  a  rascal,  who  ought  to  be  huuted  out 
of  society,  as  he  has  been.  Three  or  four  nations  have  expelled 
him  :  and  it  is  a  shame  that  he  is  protected  in  this  country.  Bos- 
well.     "  I  don't  deny.  Sir,  but  that  his  novel  may,  perhaps,  do 

1  BosweU  had  formed  an  intimacy  with  this  gentleman  at  the  University  of  Glasgow. 
Temple'o  skftch  of  Gray's  character,  adopted  both  by  Mason  and  Johnson,  has  transmitted 
bis  name  tt  posterity.  For  some  particulars  of  his  preferment  and  works,  see  MitforJ'l 
"  Gray)"  p.  liv. — Markland, 


408  ■    LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  l^Wk 

barm  ;  but  I  caunot  think  his  intention  was  bad."  Johnson.  *'  Sir, 
that  will  not  do.  We  cannot  prove  any  man's  intention  to  be  bad. 
You  may  shoot  a  man  through  the  head,  and  say  you  intended  to 
miss  him  ;  but  the  judge  will  order  you  to  be  hanged.  An  alleged 
want  of  intention,  when  evil  is  committed,  will  not  be  allowed  in  a 
court  of  justice.  Rousseau,  Sir,  is  a  very  bad  man.  I  would  sooner 
sign  a  sentence  for  his  transportation,  than  that  of  any  felon  who 
has  gone  from  the  Old  Bailey  these  many  years.  Yes,  I  should  like 
to  have  him  work  in  the  plantations."  Boswell.  "Sir,  do  you 
think  him  as  bad  a  man  as  Voltaire  ?  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  it  is 
difficult  to  settle  the  proportion  of  iniquity  between  them." 

This  violence  seemed  very  strange  to  me,  who  had  read  many  of 
Rousseau's  animated  writings  with  great  pleasure,  and  even  edifica 
tion  ;  had  been  much  pleased  with  his  society,  and  was  just  come 
from  the  continent,  where  he  was  very  generally  admired.  Nor  can 
I  yet  allow  that  he  deserves  the  very  severe  censure  which  Johnson 
pronounced  upon  him.  His  absurd  preference  of  savage  to  civilized 
life,  and  other  singularities,  are  proofs  rather  of  a  defect  in  his 
understanding,  than  of  any  depravity  in  his  heart.  And  notwith- 
staudiug  the  unfavourable  opinion  which  many  worthy  men  have 
expressed  of  his  "  Profession  de  Foi  du  Vicaire  Savoyard,"  I  cannot 
help  admiring  it  as  the  performance  of  a  man  full  of  sincere  reveren- 
tial submission  to  Divine  Mystery,  though  beset  with  perplexing 
doubts  :  a  state  of  mind  to  be  viewed  with  pity  rather  than  with 
anger. 

On  his  favourite  subject  of  subordination,  Johnson  said,  "  So  far 
is  it  from  being  true  that  men  are  naturally  equal,  that  no  two 
people  can  be  half  an  hour  together,  but  one  shall  acquire  an  evi- 
dent superiority  over  the  other." 

I  mentioned  the  advice  given  us  by  philosophers,  to  console  our- 
selves,  when  distressed  or  embarrassed,  by  thinking  of  those  who  are 
in  a  worse  situation  than  ourselves.  This,  I  observed,  could  not 
apply  to  all,  for  there  must  be  some  who  have  nobody  worse  than 
they  are.  "  Why,  to  be  sure,  Sir,  there  are  ;  but  they  don't  know 
it.  There  is  no  being  so  poor  and  so  contemptible,  who  does  not 
think  there  is  somebody  still  poorer,  and  still  more  contemptible."' 

As  my  stay  in  London  at  this  time  was  very  short,  I  had  not 


stAt.n.  iNiauKni'v.  409 

manj  opportunities  of  being  with  Dr.  Jolnisou  ;  but  I  felt  my  vene- 
ration for  him  iu  no  degree  lessened,  by  my  having  seen  multorum 
hominmn  mores  tt  urhes.  On  the  contrary,  by  having  it  in  my  power 
to  compare  him  with  many  of  the  most  celebrated  persons  of  other 
countries,  my  admiration  of  his  extraordinary  mind  was  increased 
and  confirmed. 

The  roughness,  indeed,  which  sometimes  appeared  in  his  manners, 
was  more  striking  to  me  now,  from  my  having  been  accustomed  to 
the  studied  smooth,  complying  habits  of  the  continent  ;  and  I  clearly 
recognised  in  him,  not  without  respect  for  his  honest  conscientious 
zeal,  the  same  indignant  and  sarcastical  mode  of  treating  every 
attempt  to  unhinge  or  weaken  good  principles. 

One  evening,  when  a  young  gentleman  teased  him  with  an  ac- 
count of  the  infidelity  of  his  servant,  who,  he  said,  would  not  believe 
the  Scriptures,  because  he  could  not  read  them  in  the  original 
tongues,  and  be  sure  that  they  were  not  invented.  "  Why,  foolish 
fellow,"  said  Johnson,  "  has  he  any  better  authority  for  almost  every- 
thing that  he  believes  ?"  Boswell.  "  Then  the  vulgar,  Sir,  never 
can  know  they  are  right,  but  must  submit  themselves  to  the 
iearned."  Johnson.  "  To  be  sure,  sir.  The  vulgar  are  the  chil- 
dren of  the  State,  and  must  be  taught  like  children.  Boswell. 
"Then,  Sir,  a  poor  Turk  must  be  a  Mahometan,  just  as  a  poor 
Englishman  must  be  a  Christian  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  yes,  Sir  ; 
and  what  then  ?  This  now  is  such  stufi",  as  I  used  to  talk  to  my 
mother,  when  I  first  began  to  think  myself  a  clever  fellow  ;  and 
she  ought  to  have  whipped  me  for  it." 

Another  evening,  Dr.  Goldsmith  and  I  called  on  him,  with  the 
hope  of  prevailing  on  him  to  sup  with  us  at  the  Mitre.  We  found 
him  indisposed,  and  resolved  not  to  go  abroad.  "  Come  then,"  said 
Goldsmith,  "  we  will  not  go  to  the  Mitre  to-night,  since  we  cannot 
have  the  big  man '  with  us."  Johnson  then  called  for  a  bottle  of 
port,  of  which  Goldsmith  and  I  partook,  while  our  friend,  now  a 
water-drinker,  sat  by  us.  Goldsmith.  "  I  think,  Mr.  Johnson,  you 
don't  go  near  the  theatres  now.     You  give  yourself  no  more  con- 

'  Tbese  two  little  words  may  be  observed  as  marks  of  Mr.  Boswell's  accuracy  in  reporting 
the  expressions  of  his  personages.  It  is  a  jocular  Irish  phrase,  which,  of  all  Johnson's 
•cquaintances,  no  one,  probably,  but  Goldsmith,  could  have  used. — C. 

Yol.  I.  ly 


•(10  LIFE    OF   JOUNSON.  ^''^^• 

corn  about  a  new  play,  than  if  you  bad  never  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  stage."  Johnson.  "  AVhy,  Sir,  our  tastes  greatly  alter. 
The  lad  does  not  care  for  the-  child's  rattle,  and  the  old  man  does 
not  care  for  the  young  man's  whore."  Goldsmith.  "  Nay,  Sir  ; 
but  your  Muse  was  not  a  whore."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  I  do  not  think 
she  was.  But  as  we  advance  in  the  journey  of  life,  we  drop  some 
of  the  things  which  Jiave  pleased  us  ;  whether  it  be  that  we  are 
fatigued  and  don't  choose  to  carry  so  many  things  any  farther,  or  that 
we  find  other  things  which  we  like  better."  Boswell.  "But,  Sir, 
why  don't  you  give  us  something  in  some  other  way  ?"  Goldsmith. 
"  Ay,  Sir,  we  have  a  claim  upon  you."  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir,  I  am 
not  obliged  to  you  any  more.  No  man  is  obliged  to  do  as  much  as 
he  can  do.  A  man  is  to  have  part  of  his  life  to  himself.  If  a  sol- 
dier has  fought  a  good  many  campaigns,  he  is  not  to  be  blamed  if  he 
retires  to  ease  and  tranquillity.  A  physician,  who  has  practised  long 
in  a  great  city,  may  be  excused  if  he  retires  to  a  small  town,  and 
takes  less  practice.  Now,  Sir,  the  good  I  can  do  by  my  conversa- 
tion bears  the  same  proportion  to  the  good  I  can  do  by  my  writings, 
that  the  practice  of  a  physician,  retired  to  a  small  town,  does  to  his 
practice  in  a  great  city."  Boswell.  "But  I  wonder.  Sir,  you 
have  not  more  pleasure  in  writing  than  in  not  writing."  Johnson. 
"  Sir,  you  may  wonder."  ' 

He  talked  of  making  verses,  and  observed,  "  The  great  difficulty 
is,  to  know  when  you  have  made  good  ones.  When  composing,  I 
have  generally  had  them  in  my  mind,  perhaps  fifty  at  a  time,  walk- 
ing up  and  down  in  my  room  ;  and  then  I  have  written  them  down, 
and  often  from  laziness,  have  written  only  half  lines.  I  have  written 
a  hundred  lines  in  a  day.  I  remember  I  wrote  a  hundred  lines  of 
*  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes '  in  a  day.  Doctor,"  turning  to 
Goldsmith,  "  I  am  not  quite  idle  ;  I  made  one  line  t'other  day  ;  but 
1  made  no  more."  Goldsmith.  "  Let  us  hear  it  ;  we'll  put  a  bad 
one  to  it."     Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  I  have  forgot  it." 

'  This  js  another  amusing  trait  of  Mr.  Boswell's  accuracy  and  hoiine  foi.  Can  anythini 
De  more  comic  than  Johnson's  affectation  of  superiority,  even  to  the  degree  of  supposing  thai 
Boswell  would  not  dare  to  wonder  without  his  special  sanction,  and  the  deference  with  whick 
Boswell  receives  and  records  such  gracious  condescension? — C. 

After  all,  Johnson  was  at  this  time  the  great  established  author  of  fifty-seven,  and  Boi 
•well  the  enthusiastic  but  humble  aspirant  of  twenty-five. 


^^■^^■^'-  LETTERS   To    LANGTON  4ll 

Such  specimeus  of  the  easy  aud  playful  couversatiou  of  the  great 
Dr.  Samuel  Johuson  are,  I  think,  to  be  prized  ;  as  exhibiting  the 
little  varieties  of  a  mind  so  enlarged  and  so  powerful  when  objects 
of  consequence  required  its  exertions,  and  as  giving  us  a  minute 
knowledge  of  his  character  and  modes  of  thinking. 

Lettkr  98.  TO   BENNET   LANGTON,  Esq. 

At  Langton. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  March  9,  1766. 
"  Dear  Sir, — What  your  friends  have  done,  that  from   your  departure  till 
now  nothing  has  been  heard  of  you,  none  of  us  are  able  to  inform  the  rest ; 
but  as  we  are  all  neglected  alike,  no  one  thinks  himself  entitled  to  the  privilege 
of  conipluint. 

"  I  should  have  known  nothing  of  you  or  of  Langton,  from  the  time  that 
dear  Miss  Langton '  left  us,  had  not  I  met  Mr.  Simpson,  of  Lincoln,  one  day  in 
the  street,  by  whom  I  was  informed  that  Mr.  Langton,  your  mamma,  and  your- 
self, had  been  all  ill,  but  that  you  were  all  recovered. 

"  That  sickness  should  suspend  your  correspondence,  I  did  not  wonder;  bnt 
hoped  that  it  would  be  renewed  at  your  recovery. 

"  Since  you  will  not  inform  us  where  you  are,  or  how  you  live,  I  know  not 
whether  you  desire  to  know  anything  of  us.  However,  I  will  tell  you  that  the 
Club  subsists ;  but  we  have  the  loss  of  Burke's  company  since  he  has  been 
engaged  in  public  business,'  in  which  he  has  gained  more  reputation  than  per- 
liaps  any  man  at  his  [first]  appearance  ever  gained  before.  He  made  two 
speeches  in  the  House  for  repealing  the  Stamp  Act,  which  were  publicly  com- 
mended by  Mr.  Pitt,  and  have  filled  the  town  with  wonder. 

"  Burke  is  a  great  man  by  nature,  and  is  expected  soon  to  attain  civil  great- 
ness. I  am  grown  greater  tod^  for  I  have  maintained  the  newspapers  these 
many  weeks ;  ^  and  what  is  greater  siill,  I  have  risen  every  morning  since  New- 
year's  day,  at  about  eight :  when  I  was  up,  I  have,  indeed,  done  but  little ; 
yet  it  is  no  slight  advancement  to  obtain,  for  so  many  hours  more,  the  con- 
sciousness of  being. 

"  I  wish  you  were  in  my  new  study  ;  I  am  now  writing  the  first  letter  in  it. 
I  think  it  looks  very  pretty  about  me. 

"Dyer*  is  constant  at  the  Club  ;  Hawkins  is  remiss;  I  am  not  over  dili- 

1  Mr.  Langton's  eldest  sister. 

2  Mr.  Burke  came  Into  Parliament  under  the  auspices  of  the  Marquess  of  Rockingham,  la 
the  year  1765. 

'  Probably  with  criticisms  on  his  Shakspeare. — C. 

<  Samuel  Dyer,  Esq.,  a  most  learned  and  ingenious  member  of  the  "  Literary  Club,"  for 
(vhosft  understanding  and  attainments  Dr.  Johnson  had  great  respect.  He  died  Sept.  14, 
1772.  A  more  particular  account  of  this  gentleman  may  be  found  in  a  Note  on  the  Life 
if  Dryden,  p.  ISO,  prefixed  to  the  edition  of  that  gi-eat  writer's  Prose  'Works,  in  four 
»oiumes,-8vo.,  ISOO  :  in  which  his  character  is  vindicated,  and  the  very  unfavourable  leprff 


41 S  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON  ^"^^ 

gent;    Lr.  Nugent,  Dr.  Goldsmith,  and  Mr.  Reynolds  are  very  constant.     Mr 
I  ye'  is  printing  his  Saxon  and  Gothic  Dictionary ;  all  the  Club  subscribes. 

"  You  will  pay  my  respects  to  all  my  Lincolnshire  friends.  I  am,  dear  Sir, 
most  affectionately  yours,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letier  99.  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,  ESQ. 

At  Langton. 
I  "  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  May  10, 1766. 

"Dear  Sir, —  In  supposing  that  I  should  be  more  than  commonly  affected 
by  the  death  of  Peregrine  Langton,''  you  were  not  mistaken ;  he  was  one  of 
those  whom  I  loved  at  once  by  instinct  and  by  reason.  I  have  seldom  indulged 
aiore  hope  of  anything  than  of  being  able  to  improve  our  acquaintance  to 
friendship.  Many  a  time  have  I  placed  myself  again  at  Langton,  and  imagined 
the  pleasure  with  which  I  should  walk  to  Partney '  in  a  summer  morning ;  but 
this  is  no  longer  possible.  We  must  now  endeavour  to  preserve  what  is  left 
us, — his  example  of  piety  and  economy.  I  hope  you  make  what  inquiries  you 
can,  and  write  down  what  is  told  you.  The  'little  things  which  distinguish 
domestic  characters  are  soon  forgotten :  if  you  delay  to  inquire,  you  will  have 
no  information ;  if  you  neglect  to  write,  information  will  be  vain. 

"  Ilis  art  of  life  certainly  deserves  to  be  known  and  studied.  He  lived  in 
plenty  and  elegance  upon  an  income  which,  to  many,  would  appear  indigent, 
and  to  most,  scanty.  How  he  lived,  therefore,  every  man  has  an  interest  in 
knowing.     His  death,  I  hope,  was  peaceful;  it  was  surely  happy. 

"  I  wish  I  had  written  sooner,  lest,  writing  now,  I  should  renew  your  grief; 
but  I' would  not  forbear  saying  what  I  have  now  said. 

"  This  loss  is,  I  hope,  the  only  misfortune  of  a  family  to  whom  no  misfortune 
at  all  should  happen,  if  my  wishes  could  avert  it.  Let  me  know  how  you  all 
go  on.  Has  Mr.  Langton  got  him  the  little  horse  that  I  recommended  ?  It 
would  do  him  good  to  ride  about  his  estate  in  fine  weather. 

"  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Langton,  and  to  dear  Miss 
Langton,  and  Miss  Di,  and  Miss  Juliet,  and  to  e^verybody  else. 

*'  The  Clur  holds  very  well  together.  Monday  is  my  night.*  I  continue  to 
rise  tolerably  well,  and  read  more  than  I  did.  I  hope  something  will  yet  come 
ou  it.     I  am.  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

lentation  of  it,  given  by  Sir  John  Hawkins  in  his  Life  of  Johnson,  pp.  222,  282,  is  minutely 
examined  — M. 

1  Edward  Lye  was  born  in  1704.  He  published  the  Etymologicum  Anglicanum  of  Junius, 
His  great  work  is  that  referred  to  above,  which  he  was  printing ;  but  he  did  not  live  to  see  the 
publication.  He  died  in  17C7,  and  the  Dictionary  was  published,  in  1772,  by  the  Rev.  Owen 
Manning,  author  of  the  History  and  Antiquities  of  Sun  sy. — C. 

*  Mr.  Langton's  uncle. 

'  The  place  of  residence  of  Mr.  Peregrine  Langton. 

'  Of  his  being  in  the  chair  of  the  Literary  Club,  which  at  this  time  met  once  a  week  in  the 
evening. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

1165—1767. 

Boawell'B  Thesis — Study  of  the  Law — Kash  Vows — Streatham  —Oxford— London  ImproT*> 
ments — Dedications — Mrs.  Williams's  Miscellanies — Mr.  William  Druramond — Translation  of 
the  Bible  into  the  Gaelic— Case  of  Ileely — Dr.  Robertson— Cuthbert  Shaw— "Tom  Hervey  " 
^Johnson's  Interview  with  King  George  III. — Warburton  and  Lowtli — Lord  Lyttleton'a 
History— Dr.  Hill — Literary  Journals — Visit  to  Lichfield— Death  of  Catherine  Chambers^ 
Lexiphanes — Mrs.  Aston. 

After  I  liad  been  some  time  in  Scotland,  I  mentioned  to  him  in  a 
letter  that  "On  my  first  return  to  my  native  country,  after  some 
years  of  absence,  I  was  told  of  a  vast  number  of  my  acquaintance 
who  were  all  gone  to  the  land  of  forgetful ness,  and  I  found  myself 
like  a  man  stalking  over  a  field  of  battle,  who  every  moment  per- 
ceives some  one  lying  dead."  I  complained  of  irresolution,  and 
mentioned  my  having  made  a  vow  as  a  security  for  good  conduct. 
I  wrote  to  him  again  without  being  able  to  move  his  indolence  : 
nor  did  I  hear  from  him  till  he  had  received  a  copy  of  my  inaugural 
Exercise,  or  Thesis  in  Civil  Law,  which  I  published  at  my  admission 
as  an  Advocate,  as  is  the  custom  in  Scotland.  He  then  wrote  to 
me  as  follows  : 

Letter  100.  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

.  "  London,  August  10, 1766. 
•'Dear  Sir, — The  reception  of  your  Thesis  put  me  in  mind  of  my  debt  to 
you.     Why  did  you  .     .     .     .  ?'     I  will  punish  you  for  it,  by  telling  you  that 
your  Latin  wants  correction.'     In  the  beginning,  Spei  alterce,  not  to  urge  ihat 

•  The  passage  omitted  alluded  to  a  private  transaction. 

*  This  censure  of  my  Latin  relates  to  the  dedication,  which  was  as  follows : — "  Viro  nobilis- 
Bimo,  ornatissimo,  Joanni,  Vicecomitl  Mountstuart,  atavls  edito  regibus,  excelsae  familiae  de 
Bute  epei  alterae, ;  labente  seculo,  quum  homines  nulUus  orlginis  g&iius  sequare  opibus 
aggrediunter,  sanguinis  antiqui  et  illustris  semper  memori,  natalium  splendorem  vlrtutibut 
augenti :  ad  publica  popuU  comitia  jam  legato ;  in  optiraatium  vero  Magnee  Britanniae  senatu, 
jure  hasreditario,  oUm  'onsessuro :  vim  insitam  varia  doctrina  promovente,  nee  tamen  ae  vet* 

418 


414  LIFE   OF    JOHNSON.  _  l'^66 

it  snould  be  prirmt;,  is  not  grammatical ;  alterte  should  be  alteri.  In  the  next 
line  you  seem  to  use  genus  absolutely,  for  what  we  call  family,  that  is,  for 
illustrious  extractioji,  I  doubt  without  authority.  Homines  nullius  originis^ 
for  nullis  orti  majoribus,  or  nulla  loco  natiy  is,  as  I  am  afraid,  barbarous. — Rud' 
diman  is  dead. 

"  I  have  now  vexed  you  enough,  and  will  try  to  please  you.  Your  resolu- 
tion to  obey  your  father  I  sincerely  approve  ;  but  do  not  accustom  yourself  to 
enchain  your  volatility  by  vows ;  they  will  sometime  leave  a  thorn  in  your 
mind,  which  you  will,  perhaps,  never  be  able  to  extract  or  eject.  Take  thia 
warning  ;  it  is  of  great  importance. 

"The  study  of  the  law  is  what  you  very  justly  term  it,  copious  and  gene- 
rous ; '  and  in  adding  your  name  to  its  professors,  you  have  done  exactly  what  I 
always  wished,  when  I  wished  you  best.  I  hope  that  you  will  continue  to  pursue 
it  vigorously  and  constantly.  You  gain,  at  least,  what  is  no  small  advantage, 
security  from  those  troublesome  and  wearisome  discontents,  which  are  always 
obtruding  themselves  upon  a  mind  vacant,  unemployed,  and  undetermined. 

"  You  ought  to  think  it  no  small  inducement  to  diligence  and  perseverance, 
that  they  will  please  your  father.  We  all  live  upon  the  hope  of  pleasing  some- 
body, and  the  pleasure  of  pleasing  ought  to  be  greatest,  and  at  last  always 
will  be  greatest,  when  our  endeavours  are  exerted  in  consequence  of  our 
duty. 

"  Life  is  not  long,  and  too  much  of  it  must  not  pass  in  idle  deliberation  how 
it  shall  be  spent:  deliberation  which  those  who  begin  it  by  prudence,  and  con- 
tinue it  with  subtilty,  must,  after  long  expense  of  thought,  conclude  by  chance. 
To  prefer  one  future  mode  of  life  to  another,  upon  just  reasons,  requires  facul-« 
ties  which  it  has  not  pleased  our  creator  to  give  us. 

"  If,  therefore,  the  profession  you  have  chosen  has  some  unexpected  incon- 
veniences, console  yourself  by  reflecting  that  no  profession  is  without  them  ; 
and  that  all  the  importunities  and  perplexities  of  business  are  softness  and 
luxury,  compared  with  the  incessant  ci'avings  of  vacancy,  and  the  unsatisfac- 
tory expedients  of  idleness. 

•  Haec  sunt  quae  nostra  potui  te  voce  monere ; 
Vade,  age.' 

"  As  to  your  History  of  Corsica,  you  have  no  materials  which  others  havei 
not,  or  may  not  have.  You  have,  somehow  or  other,  warmed  your  imagina- 
tion. I  wish  there  were  some  cure,  like  the  lover's  leap,  for  all  heads  of  which 
Bome    single   idea   has    obtained  an  unreasonable   and    irregular   possession. 

ditante,  prajdito  :  prisca  fide,  animo  liberrimo,  et  morum  elegantiS,  insigni :  in  Italiaj  visi- 
tandse  itinere  socio  suo  honoratissitno  :  hasce  juvisprudentiBE  primitias,  devinctissimas  amicitise 
et  observantiffi,  monumentura,  D.  D.  C.  Q.  Jacobus  Boswell." 

'  This  alludes  to  the  first  sentence  of  the  Prooemium  of  my  Thesis.  "  Juiisprudentiffi  studio 
nullum  uberius,  nullum  geuerosius :  in  legibus  enim  agitandis,  populoru'u  mores,  variasque 
fortunae  vices  ex  quibiis  leges  oriuntur,  coutemplari  simul  solemus." 


'**"-*^-  BdSWELL's    THESIS.  41^ 

Mind  your  own   affairs,   and  leave   the  Corsicans  to  theirs. — I  am,  dear   Sir, 
your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  101.  TO  DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  Auchinl  ech,  Nov.  6, 1766. 

*'  MuCtl  ESTEEMED  AND  DEAR    SiR, — I  plead  HOt  guiltj  tO  .  .  .  . 

"  Having  thus,  I  hope,  cleared  myself  of  the  charge  brought  against  me,  I 
presume  you  will  not  be  displeased  if  I  escape  the  punishment  which  you  havo 
decreed  for  me  unheard.  If  you  have  discharged  the  arrows  of  criticism 
against  an  innocent  man,  you  must  rejoice  to  find  they  have  missed  him,  or 
have  not  been  pointed  so  as  to  wound  him. 

"  To  talk  no  longer  in  allegory,  I  am,  with  all  deference,  going  to  offer  a 
few  observations  in  defence  of  my  Latin,  which  you  have  found  fault  with. 

"  You  tliink  I  should  have  used  spei  primce  instead  of  spei  alferce.  Spes  is, 
indeed,  often  used  to  express  something  on  which  we  have  a  future  depend* 
ence,  as  in  Virg.  Eclog.  i.  1.  14. — 


■  modo  namque  gemellos 


Spem  gi'egis,  ah !  silice  in  nuda  connixa  reliqult :' 

and  in  Georg.  iil.  1.  4*73. — 

'  Spemque  gregemque  simul,' 

for  the  lambs  and  the  sheep.  Yet  it  is  also  used  to  express  anything  on  which 
wc  have  a  present  dependence,  and  is  well  applied  to  a  man  of  distinguished 
influence, — our  support,  our  refuge,  our  prwsidium,  as  Horace  calls  Maecenas. 
So,  jEneid  xii.  1.  57,  Queen  Aniata  addresses  her  son-in-law,  Turnus  : — 'spea 
tu  nunc  icna ;'  and  he  was  tlieu  no  future  hope,  for  she  adds, — 

♦ decus  imperiumque  Latin! 


Te  penes ;' 

which  might  have  been  said  of  my  Lord  Bute  some  years  ago.  Now  I  con- 
eider  the  present  Earl  of  Bute  to  be  '  Excehce  familice  de  Bute  spes  prima;' 
and  my  Lord  Mountstuart,  as  his  eldest  son,  to  be  '  spes  altera^  So  in  .(Eneid 
xii.  1.  108,  after  having  mentioned  Pater  .(Eneas,  who  was  the  present  a^es, 
the  reigning  spes,  as  my  German  friends  would  say,  the  spes  prima,  the  poet 
adds, — 

'Et  juxta  Ascanius,  magnaa  spes  altera  Romse.' 
"  You  think  alterce  ungrammatical,  and  you  tell  me  it  should  have  been  altert. 
'  The  passage  omitted  explained  the  transaction  to  which  the  preceding  letter  had  alluded. 


416  LIFE    OF   JOHKSOiT.  *^^*- 

You  must  recollect,  that  in  old  times  alter  was  declined  regularly;  and  when 
the  ancient  fragments  preserved  in  the  Juru  Civilis  Pontes  were  written,  it 
was  certainly  declined  in  the  way  that  I  use  it.  This,  I  should  think,  may  pro- 
tect a  lawyer  who  writes  altera  in  a  dissertation  upon  part  of  his  own  science. 
But  as  I  could  hardly  venture  to  quote  fragments  of  old  law  to  so  classical  a 
man  as  Mr.  Johnson,  I  have  not  made  an  accurate  search  into  these  remains, 
to  find  examples  of  what  I  am  able  to  produce  in  poetical  composition.  We 
find  in  Plant.  Rudens,  act  iii.  scene  4, — 

'  Nam  huic  altera  patria  quae  sit  profecto  nescio.' 

Plautus  is,  to  be  sure,  an  old  comic  writer ;  but  in  the  days  of  Scipio  anj 
Lelius,  we  find  Terent.     Heautontim.  act  ii.  scene  3, — 

' hoc  ipsa  in  itinere  alterm 


Dum  narrat,  forte  audivi.' 

"You  doubt  my  having  authority  for  using  genus  absolutely,  for  what  wo 
cs\\  family,  that  is.  ior  illustrious  extraction.  Now  I  take  genus  in  Latin  to 
have  much  the  same  signification  with  hirth  in  English  ;  both  in  their  primary 
meaning  expressing  simply  descent,  but  both  made  to  stand  /car,  i^oxijv  for 
noble  descent.     Genus  is  thus  used  in  Ilor.  lib.  ii.  Sat.  v.  1.  8, — 

'  Et  gemis  et  virtus,  nisi  cum  re,  vilior  alga  est.' 

And  in  lib.  i.  Epist.  vi.  1.  37, 

'  Et  genus  et  formam  Regina  Pecunia  donat.' 

And  in  the  celebrated  contest  between  Ajax  and  Ulysses,  Ovid's  Metamorph. 
lib.  xiii.  1.  140,— 

'  Nam  genus  et  proavos,  et  quae  non  fecimus  ipsi, 
Vix  ea  nostra  voce  ' 

"  Homines  nullius  originis,  for  nullis  orti  majoribus  or  nulla  loco  nati, 
is,  '  you  are  afraid,  barbarous.' 

^^Origo  is  used  to  signify  extraction,  as  in  Virg.  Jilneid  i.  286, — 

'Nascetur  pulclira  Trojanus  origine  Ctesar:' 

and  in  ^neid  x.  1.  618, — 

'  Ille  tamen  nostr&  deducit  origine  nomen.' 

and  as  nullus  is  used  for  obscure,  is  it  not  in  the  genius  of  the  Latin  language 
to  write  nullius  originis,  for  obscure  extraction  ? 

"  I  have  defended  myself  as  well  as  I  could. 

"  Might  I  venture  to  differ  from  you  with  regard  to  the  utility  <)f  vowsf     I 


'P^^'^-^t-  Mrs.  WILLIAMS.  411 

am  scnsil)lc  that  it  would  be  very  dangerous  to  make  vowg  faslily,  and  ivithout 
a  due  consideration.  But  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  they  may  often  be  of 
great  advantage  to  one  of  a  variable  judgment  and  irregular  inclination.  I 
iilways  remember  a  passage  in  one  of  your  letters  to  our  Italian  friend  Baretti ; 
where,  talking  of  the  monastic  life,  you  say  you  do  not  wonder  that  serloua 
)ncn  should  put  themselves  under  the  protection  of  a  religious  order,  when 
tliev  have  found  how  unable  they  are  to  take  care  of  themselves.  For  my 
own  part,  without  aflecting  to  be  a  Socrates,  I  am  sure  I  have  a  more  than  or- 
dinary struggle  to  maintain  with  the  Evil  Principle;  and  all  the  methods  I  can 
devise  are  little  enough  to  keep  me  tolerably  steady  iu  the  paths  of  rectitude. 
"  I  am  ever,  with  the  highest  veucration,  your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  James  Boswell." 

It  eppcars  from  Johnson's  diary,  that  he  was  this  year  at  Mr. 
Thrale's,'  from  before  Midsummer  till  after  Michaelmas,  and  that  he 
afterwards  passed  a  month  at  Oxford.  He  had  then  contracted  a 
great  intimacy  with  Mr.  Chambers  of  that  University,  afterwards 
Sir  Robert  Chambers,-  one  of  the  Judges  in  India. 

He  published  nothing  this  year  in  his  own  name  ;  but  the  noble 
Dedication*  to  the  King,  of  Gwyn's  "  London  and  Westminster 
Improved,"  was  written  by  him  ;  and  he  furnished  the  Preface,f 
and  several  of  the  pieces,  which  composed  a  volume  of  Miscellanies 
by  Mrs.  Anna  Williams,  the  blind  lady  who  had  an  asylum  in  his 
house."     Of  these,  there  are  his  "Epitaph  on  Philips  ;"*  "  Trans- 

1  In  the  year  1T6G,  Mr.  Johnson's  health  grew  so  bad,  that  he  could  not  stir  out  of  his  room, 
5n  the  court  he  inhabited,  for  many  weeks  together — I  think  mmiths.  Mr.  Thrale's  attentions 
and  mj'  own  now  became  so  acceptable  to  him,  that  he  often  lamented  to  us  the  horrible  con- 
dition of  his  mind,  which  he  said  was  nearly  distracted ;  and  though  he  charged  us  to  make 
him  odd  solemn  promises  of  secrecy  on  so  strange  a  subject,  yet  when  we  waited  on  him  one 
morning,  and  heard  him,  in  the  most  pathetic  terms,  beg  the  prayers  of  Dr.  Delap  [Hector  of 
Lewes]  who  had  left  him  as  we  came  in,  I  felt  excessively  alTected  with  grief,  and  well  remem- 
ber that  nij*  husband  involuntarily  lifted  up  one  hand  to  shut  his  mouth,  from  provocation 
at  hearing  a  man  so  wildly  proclaim  what  he  could  at  last  persuade  no  one  to  believe,  and 
what,  if  true,  would  have  been  so  very  unfit  to  reveaL  Mr.  Thrale  went  away  soon 
after,  leaving  me  with  him,  and  bidding  me  prevail  on  him  to  quit  his  close  habitation  In  the 
court  and  come  with  us  to  Streatham,  where  I  undertook  the  care  of  his  health,  and  had  the 
honour  and  happiness  of  contributing  to  its  restoration. — Piozzi. 

*  As  to  her  poems,  she  many  years  attempted  to  publish  them :  the  half-crowns  she  had  got 
towards  the  publication,  she  confessed  to  me,  went  for  necessaries,  and  that  the  greatest  pain 
she  ever  felt  was  from  the  appearance  of  defrauding  her  subscribers;  "but  what  can  I  do? 
the  Doctor  [Johnson]  always  puts  me  off  with  'Well,  we'll  think  about  it;'  and  Goldsmith 
eays.  '  Leave  it  to  me.'  "  However,  two  of  her  friends,  under  her  directions,  made  a  new  sub« 
dcription  at  a  crown,  the  whole  price  of  the  work,  and  in  a  very  little  time  raised  sixty  pounds. 
Mrs.  Carter  was  applied  to  by  Mrs.  Williams's  desire,  and  she,  with  the  utmost  activity  and 
V'jidness,  procured  a  long  list  of  names.     At  length  the  work  was  published,  in  which  is  a  finfl 

18* 


118  LIFE    OP   JOHNSOK.  1^61 

lation  of  a  Tjatin  Epitaph  on  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  ;"f  "  Friendship, 
an  Ode  ;"*  and,  "  The  Ant,"*  a  paraphrase  from  the  Proverbs,  of 
which  I  have  a  copy  in  his  own  liaud-writing  ;  and,  from  internal 

evidence,  I  ascribe  to  him,  "  To  Miss ,  on  her  givhig  the  Author 

a  gold  and  silk  network  Purse  of  her  own  weaving  ;"f  and  "  The 
happy  Life."! — Most  of  the  pieces  in  this  volume  have  evidently 
received  additions  from  his  superior  pen,  particularly  "  Verses  to 
Mr.  Richardson,  on  his  Sir  Charles  Grandison  ;"  "  The  Excursion  ;" 
"  Reflections  on  a  Grave  digging  in  Westminster  Abbey."  There  is 
in  this  collection  a  poem,  "  On  the  death  of  Stephen  Grey,  the 
Electrician  ;"  *  which,  on  reading  it,  appeared  to  me  to  be  undoubt- 
edly Johnson's.  I  asked  Mrs.  Williams  whether  it  was  not  his. 
"  Sir,"  said  she,  with  some  warmth,  "  I  wrote  that  poem  before  I 
had  the  honour  of  Dr.  Johnson's  acquaintance."  I,  however,  was 
so  much  impressed  with  my  first  notion,  that  I  mentioned  it  to  John- 
son, repeating,  at  the  same  time,  what  Mrs.  Williams  had  said.  His 
answer  was,  "It  is  true.  Sir,  that  she  wrote  it  before  she  was  ac- 
quainted with  me  ;  but  she  has  not  told  you  that  I  wrote  it  all  over 
again,  except  two  lines."  "  The  Fountains,"!  a  beautiful  little  Fairy 
tale  in  prose,  written  with  exquisite  simplicity,  is  one  of  Johnson's 
productions  ;  and  I  cannot  withhold  from  Mrs.  Thrale  the  praise  of 
being  the  author  of  that  admirable  poem,  "The  Three  Warn- 
ings." 

He  wrote  this  year  a  letter,  not  intended  for  publication,  which 
has,  perhaps,  as  strong  marks  of  his  sentiment  and  style,  as  any  of 
his  compositions.  The  original  is  in  my  possession.  It  is  addressed 
to  the  late  Mr.  William  Drummond,  bookseller  in  Edinburgh,  a  gen- 
tleman of  good  family,  but  small  estate,  who  took  arms  for  the  house 
of  Stuart  in  1145  ;  and  during  his  concealment  in  London  till  the 
act  of  general  pardon  came  out,  obtained  the  acquaintance  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  who  justly  esteemed  him  as  a  very  worthy  man.  It  seems 
some  of  the  members  of  the  Society  in  Scotland  for  propagating 
Christian  knowledge  had  opposed  the  scheme  of  translating  the 
Holy  Scriptures  into  the  Erse  or  Gaelic  language,  from  political 
considerations  of  the  disadvantage  of  keeping   up  the  distinction 

written  but  gloomy  tale  of  Dr.  Johnson.  The  money  (£150)  Mrs.  Williams  had  various  uses 
for,  and  a  part  of  it  was  funded. — Lady  Kkioht. 


^■"^^  W  GAELIC    BIBLE.  4l9 

between  the  Highlanders  and  the  other  iuliabitants  of  North  Britain 
Dr.  Johnson  being  informed  of  this,  I  suppose  by  Mr.  Drummond, 
wrote  with  a  generous  indignation  as  follows  : 


Letter  102.  TO   MR.  WILLIAM   DRUMMOND. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  Aug.  13, 1766. 

"Sir, — I  did  not  expect  to  hear  that  it  could  be,  in  an  assembly  convened 
for  the  propagation  of  Christian  knowledge,  a  question  whether  any  nation 
uninstructed  in  religion  should  receij'e  instruction ;  or  whether  that  instruction 
should  be  imparted  to  them  by  a  translation  of  the  holy  books  into  their  own 
language.  If  obedience  to  the  will  of  God  t)e  necessary  to  happiness,  and 
knowledge  of  his  will  be  necessary  to  obedience,  I  know  not  how  he  that  with- 
holds this  knowledge,  or  delays  it,  can  be  said  to  love  his  neighbour  as  himself. 
He  that  voluntarily  continues  ignorance  is  guilty  of  all  the  crimes  which  igno- 
rance produces  ;  as  to  him  that  should  extinguish  the  tapers  of  a  light-house, 
might  justly  be  imputed  the  calamities  of  shipwrecks.  Christianity  is  the  high- 
est perfection  of  humanity ;  and  as  no  man  is  g09d  but  as  he  wishes  the  good 
of  others,  no  man  can  be  good  in  the  highest  degree,  who  wishes  not  to  others 
the  largest  measures  of  the  greatest  good.  To  omit  for  a  year,  or  for  a  day,  the 
most  efficacious  method  of  advancing  Christianity,  in  compliance  with  any  pur- 
poses that  terminate  on  this  side  of  the  grave,  is  a  crime  of  which  I  know  not 
that  the  world  has  yet  had  an  example,  except  in  the  practice  of  the  planters  of 
America, — a  race  of  mortals  whom,  I  suppose,  no  other  man  wishes  to  resemble, 

"  The  Papists  have,  indeed,  denied  to  the  laity  the  use  of  the  Bible  ;  but 
this  prohibition,  in  few  places  now  very  rigorously  enforced,  is  defended  by 
arguments,  which  have  for  their  foinidation  the  care  of  souls.  To  obscure, 
upon  motives  merely  political,  the  light  of  revelation,  is  a  practice  reserved  for 
the  reformed  ;  and,  surely,  the  blackest  midnight  of  popery  is  meridian 'sun- 
Bhinc  to  such  a  reformation.  I  am  not  very  willing  that  any  language  should 
be  totally  extinguished.  The  similitude  and  derivation  of  languages  afford  the 
most  indubitable  proof  of  the  traduction  of  nations,  and  tlie  genealogy  of 
mankind.  They  add  often  physical  certainty  to  historical  evidence  ;  and  often 
supply  the  only  evidence  of  ancient  migrations,  and  of  the  revolutions  of  agea 
which  left  no  written  monuments  behind  them. 

"  Every  man's  opinions,  at  least  his  desires,  are  a  little  influenced  by  his 
favourite  studies.  My  zeal  for  languages  may  seem,  perhaps,  rather  over- 
heated, even  to  those  by  whom  I  desire  to  be  well  esteemed.  To  those  who 
have  nothing  in  their  thoughts  but  trade  or  policy,  present  power,  or  present 
money,  I  should  not  think  it  necessary  to  defend  my  opinions ;  but  with  men 
•'f  letters  I  would  not  unwillingly  compound,  by  wishing  the  continuance  of 
every  language,  however  narrow  in  its  extent,  or  however  incommodious  foi 
common  purposes,  till  it  is  reposited  in  some  version  of  a  known  book,  that  it 


<20  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON,  ^^67 

may  be  always  hereafter  examined  and  compared  with  other  languages,  and 
then  permitting  its  disuse.  For  this  purpose,  the  translation  of  the  Bible  is 
most  to  be  desired.  It  is  not  certain  that  the  same  method  will  not  preserve 
the  Highland  language,  for  the  purposes  of  learning,  and  abolish  it  from  daily 
use.  When  the  Highlanders  read  the  Bible,  they  will  naturally  wish  to  have 
its  obscurities  cleared,  and  to  know  the  history,  collateral  or  appendant. 
Knowledge  always  desires  increase  ;  it  is  like  fire,  which  must  first  be  kindled 
by  some  external  agent,  but  which  will  afterwards  propagate  itself.  When 
they  once  desire  to  learn,  they  will  naturally  have  recourse  to  the  nearest  lan- 
guage by  which  that  desire  can  be  gratified  ;  and  one  will  tell  another,  that  if 
he  would  attain  knowledge,  he  must  leara  English. 

"  This  speculation  may,  perhaps,  be  thought  more  subtle  than  the  grossnesa 
of  real  life  will  easily  admit.  Let  it,  however,  be  remembered,  that  the  effi- 
cacy of  ignorance  has  long  been  tried,  and  has  not  produced  the  consequence 
expected.  Let  knowledge,  therefore,  take  its  turn  ;  and  let  the  patrons  of 
privation  stand  awhile  aside,  and  admit  the  operation  of  positive  principles. 

"  You  will  be  pleased.  Sir,  to  assure  the  worthy  man  who  is  employed  in  the 
new  translation,'  that  he  has  my  wishes  for  his  success;  and  if  here  or  at  Ox- 
ford I  can  be  of  any  use,  that  I  shall  think  it  more  than  honour  to  promote 
his  undertaking. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  delayed  so  long  to  write.     I  am.  Sir,  your  most  humble 

servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

The  opponents  of  this  pious  scheme  being  made  ashamed  of  their 
"onduct,  the  benevolent  undertaking  was  allowed  to  go  on. 

The  following  letters,  though  not  written  till  the  year  after,  being 
chiefly  upon  the  same  subject,  are  here  inserted. 

Lettkr  103.  TO  MR.  WILLIAM  DRUMMOND. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  AprU  21,  TioT. 
"Dear  Sir, — That  my  letter  should  have  had  such  effects  as  you  mention, 
gives  me  great  pleasure.     I  hope  you  do  not  flatter  me  by  imputing  to  me 
more  good  than  I  have  really  done.     Those  whom  my  arguments  have  per- 

'  The  Rev.  Mr.  John  Campbell,  minister  of  the  parish  of  Kippen,  near  Stirling,  who  has 
lately  favoured  me  with  a  long,  intelligent,  and  very  obliging  letter  upon  this  work,  makes  the 
following  remark : — "  Dr.  Johnson  has  alluded  to  the  worthy  man  employed  in  the  translation 
of  the  New  Testament.  Might  not  this  have  afforded  you  an  opportunity  of  paying  a  proper 
tribute  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  James  Stuart,  late  minister  of  Killin,  distin- 
gviished  by  his  eminent  piety,  learning,  and  taste  ?  The  amiable  simplicity  of  his  Hfa,  hla 
warm  benevolence,  his  indefatigable  and  successful  exertions  for  civilising  and  improving  the 
parish  of  which  he  was  minister  for  upwards  of  fifty  years,  entitle  him  to  the  gratitude  of  his 
country,  and  the  veneration  of  all  good  men.  It  certa  n\y  would  be  a  pity,  if  s»  ch  a  Siarao- 
tor  should  be  permitted  to  sink  Jiito  oblivion." 


'*'''-^T-  ^^-  CASE    OF    MRS.    HEELY.  •  i2\ 

eu.ided  to  cliange  tbcir  opinion,  shew  such  modesty  and  candour  as  deserve 
great  praise. 

"  I  hope  the  worthy  translator  goes  diUgently  forward.  He  has  a  higher 
reward  in  prospect  than  any  honours  this  world  can  bestow.  I  wish  I  could 
be  useful  to  hhn. 

"  The  publication  of  my  letter,  if  it  could  be  of  use  in  a  cause  to  which  all 
other  causes  are  nothing,  I  should  not  prohibit.  But  first,  I  would  have  you 
to  consider  whether  the  publication  will  really  do  any  good  ;  next,  whether  by 
Drinting  and  distributing%very  small  number,  you  may  not  attain  all  that  you 
propose ;  and,  what  perhaps  I  should  have  said  first,  whether  the  letter  which 
I  do  not  now  perfectly  remember,  be  fit  to  be  printed.  If  you  can  consult  Dr. 
Robertson,  to  whom  I  am  little  known,  I  shall  be  satisfied  acout  the  propriety 
of  whatever  he  shall  direct.  If  he  thinks  that  it  should  be  printed,  I  entreat 
him  to  revise  it ;  there  may,  perhaps,  be  some  negligent  lines  written,  and 
whatever  is  amiss,  he  knows  very  well  how  to  rectify.'  Be  pleased  to  let  me 
know,  from  time  to  time,  how  this  excellent  design  goes  forward. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  young  Mr.  Drummoad,  whom  I  hope  you  will 
live  to  see  such  as  you  desire  him.  I  have  not  lately  seen  Mr.  Elphinston,  but 
believe  him  to  be  prosperous.  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  the  same  of  you,  for  I 
am   Sir,  your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Jouxson." 

Letter  104.  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  Johnson's  Court,  Fleet  Street,  Oct.  24, 1767. 

"  Sir, — I  returned  this  week  from  the  country,  after  an  absence  of  near  six 
mouths,  and  found  your  letter  with  many  other.s,  which  I  should  have  answered 
sooner,  if  I  had  sooner  seen  them. 

"  Dr.  Robertson's  opinion  was  surely  right.  Men  should  not  be  told  of  the 
faults  which  they  have  mended.  I  am  glad  the  old  language  is  taught,  and 
honour  the  translator,  as  a  man  whom  God  has  distinguished  by  the  high  office 
of  propagating  his  word. 

"  I  must  take  the  liberty  of  engaging  you  in  an  office  of  charity.  Mrs.  Heely, 
the  wife  of  Mr.  Heely,  who  had  lately  some  office  in  your  theatre,  is  my  near  re- 
lation, and  now  in  great  distress.  They  wrote  me  word  of  their  situation  some 
time  ago,  to  which  I  returned  them  an  answer  which  raised  hopes  of  more  than 
it  is  proper  for  me  to  give  them.  Their  representation  of  their  affairs  I  have 
discovered  to  be  such  as  cannot  be  trusted  ;  and  at  this  distance,  though  their 
case  requires  haste,  I  know  not  how  to  act.  She,  or  her  daughters,  may  be 
heard  of  at  Canongate-head.  I  must  beg,  Sir,  that  you  will  inquire  after 
them,  and  let  me  know  what  is  to  be  done.     I  am  willing  to  go  to  ten  pounds, 

1  This  par.igraph  shows  Johnson's  real  estimation  of  the  character  and  abilities  of  the  ceie- 
orated  Scottish  Uislorian,  however  lightly,  in  a  moment  of  caprice,  he  may  have  spolven  of  hi» 
«orkd. — B. 


422  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^^^ 

and  will  transmit  you  such  a  sum,  if  upon  examination  you  find  it  likely  to  be 
of  use.  If  tliey  are  in  immediate  want,  advance  them  what  you  think  proper 
What  I  could  do  I  would  do  for  the  woman,  having  no  great  reason  to  pay 
much  regard  to  Heely  himself.' 

"  I  believe  you  may  receive  some  intelligence  from  Mrs.  Baker  of  the  theatre, 
whose  letter  I  received  at  the  same  time  with  yours  ;  and  to  whom,  if  you  see 
her,  you  will  make  my  excuse  for  the  seeming  neglect  of  answering  her. 

"  Whatever  you  advance  within  ten  pounds  shall  be  immediately  returned 

to  you,  or  paid  as  you  shall  order.     I  trust  wholl)#b  your  judgment.     I  am, 

Sir,  &c., 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Mr.  Cuthbert  Shaw,  alike  distinguished  by  his  geuius,  misfor- 
tunes, and  misconduct,  published  this  year  a  poem,  called  "  The 
Kace,  by  Mercurius  Spur,  Esq."  in  which  he  whimsically  made  the 
living  poets  of  England  contend  for  pre-eminence  of  fame  by  run- 
ning : 

"  Prove  by  their  heels  the  prowess  of  the  head." 

In  this  poem  there  was  the  following  portrait  of  Johnson : 

"  Here  Johnson  comes, — unblest  with  outward  grace, 
His  rigid  morals  stamp'd  upon  his  face  ; 
While  strong* conceptions  struggle  in  his  brain  ; 
(For  even  wit  is  brought  to  bed  with  pain:) 
To  view  him,  porters  with  their  loads  would  rest, 
And  babes  cling  frighted  the  nurses'  breast. 
With  looks  convulsed  he  roars  in  pompous  strain, 
And,  like  an  angry  lion,  shakes  his  mane. 
Tlie  Nine,  with  terror  struck,  who  ne'er  had  seeu 
Aught  human  with  so  terrible  a  mien, 
Debating  whether  they  should  stay  or  run. 
Virtue  steps  forth,  and  claims  him  for  her  son. 
With  gentle  speech  she  warms  him  now  to  yield, 
Nor  stain  his  glories  in  the  doubtful  field  ; 
But  wrapt  in  conscious  worth,  content  sit  down, 

1  This  is  the  person  concerning  whom  Sir  John  Hawkins  has  thrown  out  very  unwarraDlabn 
reflections  both  against  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Francis  Barber. — B. 

Hawkins  wished  to  persuade  the  world  that  Dr.  Johnson  acted  unjustifiably  in  preferring 
(in  the  disposal  of  his  property)  Barber  to  this  man,  whom  Sir  John  and  his  daughter,  in  her 
Memoirs,  call  Johnson's  rehition,  but  who,  in  fact,  had  only  married  his  relation.  She 
vas  dead,  and  Heely  had  mariied  another  woman,  at  the  ti~'e  when  Hawkins  allotted  to 
think  that  lie  had  claims  to  be  Dr.  Johnson's  heir. — C. 


'*!"'■.  69  HON.   T.   HERTfiY.  423 

Since  Fame,  resolved  his  various  pleas  to  crown, 
Though  forced  his  present  claim  to  disavow, 
Had  long  reserved  a  chaplet  for  his  brow. 
He  bows,  obeys  ;  for  time  shall  first  exprro, 
Ere  Johnson  stay,  when  Virtue  bids  retire." 

Tin^  Eon.  Thomas  Hervey '  and  his  lady  having  unhappily  dis 
agreed  and  being  about  to  sepai'ate,  Johnson  interfered  as  their 
?riend,  and  wrote  him  a  letter  of  expostulation,  which  I  have  not 
heen  a'  tie  to  find  ;  but  the  substance  of  it  is  ascertained  by  a  letter 
to  Job  ison  in  answer  to  it,  which  Mr.  Hervey  printed.  The  occa- 
sion of  this  correspondence  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Hervey, 
was  tl  us  related  to  me  by  Mr.  Beauclerk.  "  Tom  Hervey  had  a 
great  "^kiug  for  Johnson,  and  in  his  will  had  left  him  a  legacy  of 
fifty  p  )unds.  One  day  he  said  to  me,  '  Johnson  may  want  this 
money  now,  more  than  afterwards.  I  have  a  mind  to  give  it  him 
directl '.  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  carry  a  fifty  pound  note  from  me 
to  him  V  This  I  positively  refused  to  do,  as  he  might,  perhaps,  have 
knocked  me  down  for  insulting  him,  and  have  afterwards  put  the  note 
in  his  pocket.  But  I  said,  if  Hervey  would  write  him  a  letter,  and 
enclose  a  fifty  pound  note,  I  should  take  care  to  deliver  it.  He  ac- 
cordingly did  write  him  a  letter,  mentioning  that  he  was  only  paying 
a  legacy  a  little  sooner.  To  his  letter  he  added,  '  P.S.  I  am  going 
to  part  with  my  wife.'  Johnson  then  wrote  to  him,  saying  nothing 
of  the  note,  but  remonstrating  with  him  against  parting  with  hia 
wife." 

When  I  mentioned  to  Johnson  this  story,  in  as  delicate  terms  aa 
I  could,  he  told  me  that  the  fifty  pound  note  was  given  to  him  by 
Mr.  Hervey  in  consideration  of  his  having  written  for  him  a  pamph- 
let against  Sir  Charles  Hanbury  Williams,  who,  Mr.  Hervey  ima- 
gined, was  the  author  of  an  attack  upon  him  ;  but  it  was  afterwards 
discovered  to  be  the  work  of  a  garreteer,  who  wrote  "  The  Fool :" 
the  pamphlet  therefore  against  Sir  Charles  was  not  printed. 

In  February,  ll6t,  there  happened  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
incidents  of  Johnson's  life,  which  gratified  his  monarchical  enthusi- 

^  The  Hon.  Thomas  Hervey,  whose  "Letter  to  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer"  in  1742,  was  much 
read  at  that  time.  He  was  second  son  of  John,  first  Earl  of  Bristol,  and  one  of  the  brothers 
of  Johnson's  early  fiiend,  Henry  Hervey.  He  [was  born  in  169S,]  married,  in  1741,  Anoej 
iaugnter  of  Francis  Coughlan,  Esq  ,  and  died  Jan.  20,  1775. — M. 


424  LIFE    OP   JOHNSOll.  1^*^- 

asm,  and  which  he  loved  to  relate  with  all  its  circuliistances,  whec 
requested  by  his  friends.  This  was  his  being  honoured  by  a  private 
conversation  with  his  Majesty,  in  the  library  at  the  Queen's  house. 
He  had  frequently  visited  those  splendid  rooms  and  noble  collection 
of  books,'  which  he  used  to  say  was  more  numerous  and  curious  than 
he  supposed  any  person  could  have  made  in  the  time  which  the  King 
had  employed.  Mr.  Barnard,  the  librarian,  took  care  that  he  should 
have  every  accommodation  that  could  contribute  to  his  ease  and 
convenience,  while  indulging  his  literary  taste  in  that  place  ;  so  that  • 
he  had  here  a  very  agreeable  resource  at  leisure  hours. 

His  Majesty  having  been  informed  of  his  occasional  visits,  was 
pleased  to  signify  a  desire  that  he  should  be  told  when  Dr.  Johnson 
came  next  to  the  library.  Accordingly,  the  next  time  that  Johnson 
did  come,  as  soon  as  he  was  fairly  engaged  with  a  book,  on  which, 
while  he  sat  by  the  fire,  he  seemed  quite  intent,  Mr.  Barnard  stole 
round  to  the  apartment  where  the  King  was,  and  in  obedience  to 
his  Majesty's  commands,  mentioned  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  then  in 
the  library.  His  Majesty  said  he  was  at  leisure,  and  would  go  to 
him  ;  upon  which  Mr.  Barnard  took  one  of  the  candles  that  stood 
on  the  King's  table,  and  lighted  his  Majesty  through  a  suit  of  rooms, 
till  they  came  to  a  private  door  into  the  library,  of  which  his  Ma- 
jesty had  the  key.  Being  entered,  Mr.  Barnard  stepped  forward 
hastily  to  Dr.  Johnson,  who  was  still  in  a  profound  study,  and  whis- 
pered him,  "  Sir,  here  is  the  King."  Johnson  started  up  and  stood 
still.  His  Majesty  approached  him,  and  at  once  was  courteously 
easy.* 

1  l)r.  Johnson  had  the  honour  of  contributing  his  assistance  towards  the  formation  of  thia 
library;  for  I  have  read  a  long  letter  from  him  to  Mr.  Barnard,  giving  the  most  masterly 
instructions  on  the  subject.  I  wished  much  to  have  gratified  my  readers  with  the  perusal  of 
this  letter,  and  have  reason  to  think  that  his  Majesty  would  have  been  graciously  pleased  to 
periait  its  publication ;  but  Mr.  Barnard,  to  whom  I  applied,  declined  it  "  on  his  own 
account  " — B. 

'■'  The  particulars  of  this  conversation  I  have  been  at  great  pains  to  collect  with  the  utmost 
authenticity,  from  Dr.  Johnson's  own  detail  to  myself;  from  Mr.  Langton,  who  was  present 
when  he  gave  an  account  of  it  to  Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  and  several  other  friends  at  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's ;  from  Mr.  Barnard  ;  from  the  copy  of  a  letter  written  by  the  late  Mr.  Strahan  the 
printer,  to  Bishop  Warburton  ;  and  from  a  minute,  the  original  of  which  is  among  the  papers 
of  the  late  Sir  James  Caldwell,  and  a  copy  of  which  was  most  obligingly  obtained  for  me  from 
his  son  Sir  John  Caldwell,  by  Sir  Francis  Lumm.  To  all  these  gentlemen  I  beg  leave  to  make 
my  grateful  acknowledgments,  and  particularly  to  Sir  Francis  Lumm,  who  was  pleased  to  tak* 
a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  even  had  the  minute  laid  before  the  King  by  Lord  Caermartheu 


^»AT.  68.  INTERVIEW   WITH    GEORGE   III.  425 

His  Majesty  began  by  observing,  that  he  understood  he  came 
Bometinres  to  the  library  ;  and  then  mentioning  his  having  heard 
that  the  Doctor  had  been  lately  at  Oxford,  asked  him  if  he  was  mt 
fond  of  going  thither.  To  which  Johnson  answered,  that  he  was 
indeed  fond  of  going  to  Oxford  sometimes,  but  was  likewise  glad  to 
come  back  again.  The  King  then  asked  him  what  they  were  doing 
at  Oxford.  Johnson  answered,  he  could  not  much  commend  their 
diligence,  but  that  in  some  respects  they  were  mended,  for  they  had 
put  their  press  under  better  regulations,  and  were  at  that  time  print- 
ing Polybius.  He  was  then  asked  whether  there  were  better  libra- 
ries at  Oxford  or  Cambridge.  He  answered,  he  believed  the 
Bodleian  was  larger  than  any  they  had  at  Cambridge  ;  at  the  same 
time  adding,  "  I  hope,  whether  we  have  more  books  or  not  than  they 
have  at  Cambridge,  we  shall  make  as  good  use  of  them  as  they  do." 
Being  asked  whether  All-Souls  or  Christ-Church  library  was  the 
largest,  he  answered,  "All-Souls  library  is  the  largest  we  have, 
except  the  Bodleian."  "  Ay,"  said  the  King,  "  that  is  the  public 
library." 

His  Majesty  inquired  if  he  was  then  writing  anything.  He  an- 
swered, he  was  not,  for  he  had  pretty  well  told  the  world  what  he 
knew,  and  must  now  read  to  acquire  more  knowledge.  The  King, 
as  it  should  seem  with  a  view  to  urge  him  to  rely  on  his  own  stores 
as  an  original  writer,  and  to  continue  his  labours,  then  said,  "  I  do 
not  think  you  borrow  much  from  anybody."  Johnson  said,  he 
thought  he  had  already  done  his  part  as  a  writer.  "  I  should  have 
thought  so  too,"  said  the  King,  "  if  you  had  not  written  so  well." 
Johnson  observed  to  me,  upon  this,  that  "  No  man  could  have  paid 
a  handsomer  compliment  ; '  and  it  was  fit  for  a  King  to  pay.  lo 
was  decisive."  When  asked  by  another  friend,  at  Sir  Joshua  Rey. 
nolds's,  whether  he  made  any  reply  to  this  high  compliment,  he  an- 

now  Duke  of  Leeds,  then  one  of  his  Majesty's  Principal  Secretaries  of  State,  who  announced 
to  Sir  Francis  the  royal  pleasure  concerning  it  by  a  letter,  in  these  words: — "I  have  the 
king's  commands  to  assure  you,  Sir,  how  sensible  his  Majesty  is  of  your  attention  in  commu- 
nicating the  minute  of  the  conversation  previous  to  its  publication.  As  there  appears  no 
objection  to  your  complying  with  Mr.  Boswetl's  wishes  on  the  subject,  you  are  at  full  hberty 
to  deliver  it  to  that  gentleman,  to  make  such  use  of  in  his  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  as  he  may 
think  proper."         .., 

1  Johnson  himself  imitated  it  to  Paoli  (see  post,  Oct,  10, 17G9) ;  and  it  is  indeed  become  ob« 
of  the  common-places  of  compliment. — C. 


4^6  LIFE    OF   JOHNSOJf  176T, 

Bwered,  "  No,  Sir.  Wlieu  the  King  had  said  it,  it  was  to  bo  so.  It 
was  not  for  rae  to  bandy  civilities  with  my  Sovereign."  Perhaps  no 
man  who  had  spent  his  whole  life  in  courts  could  have  shown  a  more 
nice  and  dignified  sense  of  true  politeness,  than  Johnson  did  in  this 
instance. 

His  Majesty  having  observed  to  him  that  he  supposed  he  must 
have  read  a  great  deal ;  Johnson  answered,  that  he  thought  more 
than  he  read  ;  that  he  had  read  a  great  deal  in  the  early  part  of  his 
life,  but  having  fallen  into  ill  health,  he  had  not  been  able  to  read 
much,  compared  with  others  :  for  instance,  he  said  he  had  not  read 
much,  compared  with  Dr.  Warburton,  Upon  which  the  King  said, 
that  he  heard  Dr.  Warburton  was  a  man  of  such  general  knowledge, 
that  you  could  scarce  talk  with  him  on  any  subject  on  which  he  was 
not  qualified  to  speak  ;  and  that  his  learning  resembled  Garrick's 
acting,  in  its  universality.*  His  Majesty  then  tailed  of  the  contro- 
versy between  Warburton  and  Lowth,  which  he  seemed  to  have  read, 
and  asked  Johnson  what  he  thought  of  it.  Johnson  answered, 
"  Warburton  has  most  general,  most  scholastic  learning  ;  Lowth  is 
the  more  correct  scholar.  I  do  not  know  which  of  them  calls  names 
best."  The  King  was  pleased  to  say  he  was  of  the  same  opinion  ; 
adding,  "  You  do  not  think  then,  Dr.  Johnson,  that  there  was  much 
argument  in  the  case."  Johnson  said,  he  did  not  think  there  was. 
"  Why  truly,"  said  the  King,  "  when  once  it  comes  to  calling  names, 
argument  is  pretty  well  at  an  end." 

His  Majesty  then  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  Lord  Lyttelton's 
history,  which  was  then  just  published.  Johnson  said,  he  thought 
his  style  pretty  good,  but  that  he  had  blamed  Henry  the  Second 
rather  too  much.  "  Why,"  said  the  King,  "  they  seldom  do  these 
things  by  halves." — "  No,  Sir,"  answered  Johnson  "  not  to  Kings." 
But  fearing  to  be  misunderstood,  he  proceeded  to  explain  himself  ; 
and  immediately  subjoined,  "  That  for  those  who  spoke  worse  of 
Kings  than  they  deserved,  he  could  find  no  excuse  ;  but  that  he 
could  more  easily  conceive  how  some  might  speak  better  of  them 
than  they  deserved,  without  any  ill  intention  ;  for,  as  Kings  had 

-  The  Rev  Mr.  Strahan  clearly  recollects  having  been  told  by  Johnson,  that  the  King 
observed  that  Pope  made  Warburton  a  bishop.  "True,  Sir,"  said  Johnson,  "  out  War>)iuton 
did  more  for  Pope  ;  he  made  him  a  Christian  :"  alluding,  no  doubt,  to  his  ingemous  comments 
pn  the  "  Essay  on  Man." — B. 


*^*''  ^'  INTERVIEW    WITH    GEORGE    III.  427 

mncli  in  tlieir  power  to  give,  those  who  were  favourea  by  tliem 
would  frequently,  from  gratitude,  exaggerate  their  praises :  and  as 
this  proceeded  from  a  good  motive,  it  was  certainly  excusable,  as 
far  as  error  could  be  excusable." 

The  King  then  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  Dr.  Hill.  John- 
son answered,  that  he  was  an  ingenious  man,  but  had  no  veracity  ; 
and  immediately  mentioned,  as  an  instance  of  it,  an  assertion  of 
that  writer,  that  he  had  seen  objects  magnified  to  a  much  greater 
degree  by  using  three  or  four  microscopes  at  a  time  than  by  using 
one.  "  Now,"  added  Johnson,  "  every  one  acquainted  with  micro- 
scopes knows,  that  the  more  of  them  he  looks  through,  the  less  the 
object  will  appear." — "  Why,"  replied  the  King,  "  this  is  not  only 
telling  an  untruth,  but  telling  it  clumsily  ;  for,  if  that  be  the  case, 
every  one  who  can  look  through  a  microscope  will  be  able  to  detect 
him,"' 

"  I  now,"  said  Johnson  to  his  friends,  when  relating  what  had 
passed,  "  began  to  consider  that  I  was  depreciating  this  man  in  the 
estimation  of  his  Sovereign,  and  thought  that  it  was  time  for  me  to 
say  something  that  might  be  more  favourable."  He  added,  therefore, 
that  Dr.  Hill  was,  notwithstamling,  a  very  curious  observer  ;  and  if 
he  would  have  been  contented  to  tell  the  world  no  more  than  he 
knew,  he  might  have  been  a  very  considerable  man,  and  needed  not 
to  have  recourse  to  such  mean  expedients  to  raise  his  reputation. 

The  King  then  talked  of  literary  journals,  mentioned  particularly 
the  Journal  des  Savans,  and  asked  Johnson  if  it  was  well  done. 
Johnson  said,  it  was  formerly  very  well  done,  and  gave  some  ac- 
count of  the  pel  sons  who  began  it,  and  carried  it  on  for  some 
years  :  enlarging,  at  the  same  time,  on  the  nature  and  use  of  such 
works.  The  King  asked  him  if  it  was  well  done  now.  Johnson 
answered,  he  had  no  reason  to  think  that  it  was.''     The    King  then 

'  Hill  does  «o<talk  of  magnifying  objects  by  two  or  more  microscopes,  but  by  applying  two 
object  glanses  to  owe  microscope;  and  tlie  advantage  of  diminished  spherical  errors  by  this 
ccntrivance  is  well  known.  Hill's  account  of  the  experiment  (,Veg.  System,  Lond.  1770,  p.  44) 
Is  obscurely  and  inaccurately  expressed  in  one  or  two  particulars  ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  he  is  substantially  right,  and  that  Dr.  Johnson's  statement  was  altogether  unfounded. — 
Elrisqton. 

Si  I  can  hardly  exjjress  how  much  I  am  delighted  with  the  Journal  des  Savans  :  its  charac- 
teristics are  precision  .and  taste  :  but  what  I  most  admire  is  that  impartiality  and  candour  which 
distinguish  the  beauties  and  defects  of  a  work,  giving-  to  the  former  due  aud  heaity  praise  and 
cahnly  and  tenderly  jioint  in;,'  out  the  latter.— GiBBON. 


428  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


1W7. 


asked  him  if  there  were  any  other  literary  journals  published  in  this 
iiingdom,  except  the  Monthly  and  Critical  Reviews  ;  and  on  being 
answered  there  was  no  other,  his  Majesty  asked  which  of  them  was 
the  best :  Johnson  answered,  that  the  Monthly  Review  was  done 
with  most  care,  the  Critical  upon  the  best  principles  ;  adding,  that 
the  authors  of  the  Monthly  Review  were  enemies  to  the  Church. 
This  the  King  said  he  was  sorry  to  hear. 

The  conversation  next  turned  on  the  Philosophical  Transactions, 
when  Johnson  observed  that  they  had  now  a  better  method  of 
arranging  their  materials  than  formerly.  "  Ay,"  said  the  King, 
"  tliey  are  obliged  to  Dr.  Johnson  for  that  ;"  for  his  Majesty  had 
heard  and  remembered  the  circumstance,  which  Johnson  himself 
had  forgot. 

II is  Majesty  expressed  a  desire  to  have  the  literary  biography  of 
this  country  ably  executed,  and  proposed  to  Dr.  Johnson  to  under- 
take it.'  Johnson  signified  his  readiness  to  comply  with  his  Ma- 
jesty's wislies. 

During  the  whole  of  this  interview,  Johnson  talked  to  his  Ma- 
jesty with  profound  respect,  but  still  in  his  firm  manly  manner, 
with  a  sonorous  voice,  and  never  in  that  subdued  tone  which  is 
commonly  used  at  the  levee  and  in  the  drawing-room.  After  the 
King  withdrew,  Johnson  showed  himself  highly  pleased  with  his 
Majesty's  conversation,  and  gracious  behaviour.  He  said  to  Mr. 
Barnard,  "  Sir,  they  may  talk  of  the  King  as  they  will  ;  but  he  is 
the  finest  gentleman  I  have  ever  seen."  And  he  afterwards  ob- 
served to  Mr.  Langton,  "  Sir,  his  manners  are  those  of  as  fine  a 
gentleman  as  we  may  suppose  Lewis  the  Fourteenth  or  Charles  the 
Second." 

At  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  where  a  circle  of  Johnson's  friends  was 
collected  round  him  to  hear  his  account  of  this  memorable  con 
versa'tion,  Dr.  Joseph  War  ton,  in  his  frank  and  lively  manner,  wsa 
very  active  in  pressing  him  to  mention  the  particulars.  "  Come 
now,  Sir,  this  is  an  interesting  matter  ;  do  favor  us  with  it."  John- 
eon,  with  great  good-humour,  complied. 

He  told  them,    "  I  found  his  Majesty  wished  I  should  talk,  and  I 

'  Tliis  perhaps  may  have  given  Dr.  Johnson  the  first  idea  of  the  most  popular  and  entertalt>- 
Ing  of  aU  his  works,  "  The  Lives  of  the  Poets." — C, 


^'''*-'^  ^^-  INTERVIEW    WITH    GEORGE   III.  429 

made  it  my  business  to  talk.  I  find  it  does  a  man  good  to  be 
talked  to  by  his  Sovereign.      In  the  first  place,  a  man  cannot  be  iu 

a  passion ."     Here  some  question  interrupted  him,  which  is  to  be 

regretted,  as  he  certainly  would  have  pointed  out  and  illustrated 
many  circumstances  of  advantage,  from  being  in  a  situation,  where 
the  powers  of  the  mind  are  at  once  excited  to  vigorous  exertion, 
and  tempered  by  reverential  awe. 

During  all  the  time  in  which  Dr.  Johnson  was  emj^loyed  in  relat- 
ing to  the  circle  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynold's  the  particulars  of  what 
passed  between  the  King  and  him,  Dr.  Goldsmith  remained  un- 
moved upon  a  sofa  at  some  distance,  affecting  not  to  join  in  the 
least  in  the  eager  curiosity  of  the  company.  He  assigned  as  a 
reason  for  his  gloom  and  seeming  inattention,  that  he  apprehended 
Johnson  had  relinquished  his  purpose  of  furnishing  him  with  a  Pro- 
logue to  his  play,  with  the  hopes  of  which  he  had  been  flattered  ; 
but  it  was  strongly  suspected  that  he  was  fretting  with  chagrin  and 
envy  at  the  singular  honour  Dr.  Johnson  had  lately  enjoyed.  At 
length,  the  frankness  and  simplicity  of  his  natural  character  pre- 
vailed. He  sprung  from  the  sofa,  advanced  to  Johnson,  and  in  a 
kind  of  flutter,  from  imagining  himself  in  the  situation  which  he 
had  just  heard  described,  exclaimed,  "  Well,  you  acquitted  yourself 
in  this  conversation  better  than  I  should  have  done  ;  for  I  should 
have  bowed  and  stammered  through  the  whole  of  it."  ' 

I  received  no  letter  from  Johnson  this  year;  nor  have  I  discovered 
any  of  the  correspondence  *  he  had,  except  the  two  letters  to  Mr. 
Drummond,  which  have  been  inserted,  for  the  sake  of  connection 

'  It  is  singular  that  Johnson  should  have  been  in  the  presence  of  Queen  Anne  and  of  George 
the  Fourth.  George  the  First  he  probably  never  saw,  but  George  the  Second  he  must  fre- 
quently have  seen,  and  he  once  told  Sir  John  Hawkins,  that,  in  a  visit  to  Sirs.  Percy,  who  had 
the  care  of  one  of  the  young  princes,  at  the  Queen's  house,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  being  then  a 
child,  came  into  the  room,  and  began  to  play  about;  when  Johnson,  with  his  usual  curiosity, 
took  an  opportunity  of  asking  him  what  books  he  was  reading,  and,  in  particular,  inquired 
as  to  his  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures;  the  Prince,  in  his  answers,  gave  him  gieat  satisfaction, 
and,  as  to  the  last,  said,  that  part  of  his  daily  exercises  was  to  read  Ostervald — no  doubt  the 
popular  Catechism  and  "  Abridgment  of  Sacred  History  "  of  J.  F.  Ostervald,  an  eminent 
Swiss  divine,  who  died  in  1747,  in  the  S4th  year  of  his  age. — C. 

^  It  is  proper  here  to  mention,  that  when  I  speak  of  his  correspondence,  I  consider  it  inde- 
pendent of  the  voluminous  collection  of  letters  which,  in  the  course  of  many  years,  he  wrote 
to  Mrs.  Thrale, — which  forms  a  separate  part  of  his  works  ;  and,  as  a  proof  of  the  high  estima 
!lon  set  on  anything  which  came  from  his  pen,  was  sold  by  that  lady  for  the  sum  of  five  huo 
ired  pounds. 


4  So  tlFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^6^. 

with  that  to  the  same  geutleman  in  lt66.  His  diary  affords  no 
light  as  to  his  employment  at  this  time.  He  passed  three  months 
at  Lichfield  : '  and  I  cannot  omit  an  affecting  and  solemn  scene 
there,  as  related  by  himself : — 

"Sunday  Oct.  18,  1*767.  Yesterday,  Oct.  17,  at  about  ten  in  the  morning, 
I  took  my  leave  for  ever  of  my  dear  old  friend,  Catherine  Chambers,  who  came 
to  live  with  my  mother  about  1724,  and  has  been  but  little  parted  from  U8 
S'nce.  She  buried  my  father,  my  brother,  and  my  mother.  She  is  now  fifty- 
eight  years  old. 

"  I  desired  all  to  withdraw,  thon  told  her  that  we  were  to  part  for  ever; 
that  as  Christians,  we  should  part  with  prayer ;  and  that  I  would,  if  she  was 
willing,  say  a  short  prayer  beside  her.  She  expressed  great  desire  to  hear  me ; 
and  held  up  her  poor  hands,  as  she  lay  in  bed,  with  great  fervour,  while  I 
prayed,  kneeling  by  her,  nearly  in  the  following  words  : — 

"Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  whose  loving  kindness  is  over  all  thy 
works,  behold,  visit,  and  relieve  tliis  thy  servant,  who  is  grieved  with  sickness. 
Grant  that  the  sense  of  her  weakness  may  add  strength  to  her  faith,  and  seri- 
ousness to  her  repentance.  And  grant  that  by  the  help  of  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
after  the  pains  and  labours  of  this  short  life,  we  may  all  obtain  everlasting 
happiness,  through  Jesus  Cuuist  our  Lord,  for  whose  sake  hear  our  prayers.'' 
Amen.     Our  Father,  &c. 

"  I  then  kissed  her.  She  told  me,  that  to  part  was  the  greatest  pain  that 
she  had  ever  felt,  and  that  she  hoped  we  should  meet  again  in  a  better  place. 
I  expressed,  with  swelled  eyes,  and  great  emotion  of  tenderness,  the  same 
hopes.  We  kissed,  and  parted.  I  humbly  hope  to  meet  again,  and  to  part  no 
more."  ^ 

By  those  who  have  been  taught  to  look  upon  Johnson  as  a  man 
of  liarsh  and  stern  character,  let  this  tender  and  affectionate  scene 
be  candidly  read  ;  and  let  them  then  judge  whether  more  warmth  of 
heart,  and  grateful  kindness,  is  often  found  in  human  nature. 

Lettkr  105.  TO   MRS.  THRALE. 

"  Lichfield,  July  20, 1767. 
"  Though  I  have  been  away  So  much  longer  than  I  purposed  or  expected,  I 
have  found  nothing  that  withdraws  my  affections  from  the  friends  whom  I  left 

1  In  his  letter  to  Mr.  Drummond,  dated  Oct.  24,  1767,  he  mentions  that  he  had  ai-rived  in 
London,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  six  months  in  the  country.  Probably  part  of  that  time 
was  spent  at  Oxford. — M. 

^  The  greater  pai't  of  this  prayer  is  in  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick,  in  our  Liturgy—. 
Elrington. 

^  Catherine  Chambers  died  in  a  few  days  after  this  interview,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Chads 
Lichfield,  on  the  7th  of  Nov.  1767.— Harwood. 


•*"''•  f'S-  LEXiniANES.  431 

behind,  or  which  makes  me  less  desirous  of  reposing  at  thai  pLice  which  youi' 
Kindness  and  Mr.  Thrale's  allows  me  to  call  my  home. 

"Miss  Lucy  is  more  kind  and  civil  than  I  expected,  and  has  raised  my 
esteem  by  many  excellencies  very  noble  and  resplendent,  though  a  little  dis- 
coloured by  hoary  virginity.  Everything  else  recalls  to  my  remembrance  years 
in  which  I  proposed  what,  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  done,  and  promised  plea- 
sure which  I  have  not  found." 

We  bavc  the  following  notice  in  his  devotional  record  : 

"  August  2,  176*7.  I  have  been  distui-bed  and  unsettled  for  a  long  time,  and 
have  been  without  resolution  to  apply  to  study  or  to  business,  being  hindered 
by  sudden  snatches. 

"  I  have  for  some  days  forborne  wine  and  suppers.  Abstinence  is  not  easily 
practised  in  another's  house  ;  but  I  think  it  fit  to  try. 

"  I  was  extremely  perturbed  in  the  night,  but  have  had  this  day  move  ease 
than  I  expected.  D[co]  gr[atia].  Perhaps  this  may  be  such  a  sudden  relief 
as  I  once  had  by  a  good  night's  rest  in  Fetter  Lane. 

"  From  that  time,  by  abstinence,  I  have  had  more   ease.     I  have  read  five 

books  of  Homer,  and  hope  to  end  the  sixth  to-night.     I  have  given  Mrs. 

a  guinea. 

"  By  abstinence  from  wine  and  suppers,  I  obtained  sudden  and  great  relief, 
and  had  freedom  of  mind  restored  to  me ;  which  I  have  wanted  for  all  this 
year,  without  being  able  to  find  my  means  of  obtaining  it." 

He,  liovvever,  furnished  Mr.  Adams  with  a  Dedication*  to  the 
King  of  that  ingenious  gentleman's  "  Treatise  on  the  Globes,"  con- 
ceived and  expressed  in  such  a  manner  as  could  not  fail  to  be  very 
grateful  to  a  monarch,  distinguished  for  his  love  of  the  sciences. 

This  year  was  published  a  ridicule  of  his  style,  under  the  title  of 
"  Lexiphanes."  Sir  John  Hawkins  ascribes  it  to  Dr.  Kenrick  ;  but 
its  author  was  one  Campbell,  a  Scotch  purser  in  the  navy.  The 
ridicule  consisted  in  applying  Johnson's  "  words  of  large  meaning,'' 
to  insignificant  matters,  as  if  one  should  put  the  armour  of  Goliath 
upon  a  dwarf.  The  contrast  might  be  laughable  ;  but  the  dignity 
of  the  armour  must  remain  the  same  in  all  considerate  minds. 
This  malicious  drollery,'  therefore,  it  may  easily  be  supposed,  couid 
do  no  harm  to  its  illustrious  object. 

I  This  effusion  of  sportive  malignity  was  the  production  of  Archibald  Campbell,  the  son  of 
Professor  Archibald  Campbell,  of  St.  Andrew's.  He  was  also  author  of  "  The  Sale  uf  Autliors" 
ft  Dialogue,  in  Imitation  of  Lucian.": — Anderson. 


J  32  LIFE    OF   JOUNSON.  ^'^^' 

Lkttse  106  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,  ESQ. 

At  Mr.  RothwcWs,  Perfumer,  in  New  Bond  Street. 

"  Lichfield,  Oct.  10, 1767. 
"  Dear  Sir, — That  you  have  been  all  summer  in  London  is  one  more  reason 
lor  which  I  regret  my  long  stay  in  the  countrj-.  I  hope  that  you  will  not  leave 
the  town  before  my  return.  We  have  here  only  the  chance  of  vacancies  in  the 
passing  carriages,  and  I  have  bespoken  one  that  may,  if  it  happens,  bring  me 
to  town  on  the  fourteenth  of  this  month  ;  but  this  is  not  certain. 

It  will  be  a  favour  if  you  communicate  this  to  Mrs.  Williams :  I  long  to  see 
all  my  friends.     I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  lOY.  TO  MRS.  ASTON. 

"  Nov.  17, 1767. 

"  Madam, — If  you  impute  it  to  disrespect  or  inattention,  that  I  took  no  leaTC 
when  I  left  Lichfield,  you  will  do  me  great  injustice.  I  know  you  too  well 
not  to  value  your  friendship. 

"  When  I  came  to  Oxford  I  inquired  after  the  product  of  our  walnut-tree, 
but  it  had,  like  other  trees  this  year,  but  very  few  nuts,  and  for  tho.se  few  I 
came  too  late.  The  tree,  as  I  told  you,  madam,  we  cannot  find  to  be  more 
than  thirty  years  old,  and  upon  measuring  it,  I  found  it,  at  about  one  foot  from 
the  ground,  seven  feet  in  circumference,  and  at  the  height  of  about  seven  feet 
the  circumference  is  five  feet  and  a  half;  it  would  have  been,  I  believe,  still 
bigger,  but  that  it  has  been  lopped.  The  nuts  are  small,  such  as  they  call 
smgle  nuts ;  wjiether  this  nut  is  of  quicker  growth  than  better  I  have  not  yet 
inquired ;   such  as  they  are,  I  hope  to  send  thera  next  year. 

"You  know,  dear  madam,  the  liberty  I  took  of  hinting,  that  I  did  not 
think  your  present  mode  of  life  very  pregnant  with  happiness.  Keflection  has 
not  yet  changed  my  opinion.  Solitude  excludes  pleasure,  and  does  not  always 
secure  peace  Some  communication  of  sentiments  is  commonly  necessary  to 
give  vent  to  the  imagination,  and  discharge  the  mind  of  its  own  flatulencies. 
Some  lady  surely  might  be  found,  in  whose  conversation  you  might  delight, 
and  in  whose  fidelity  you  might  repose.  The  world,  says  Locke,  has  people  of 
all  sorts.  You  will  forgive  me  this  obtrusion  of  my  opinion  ;  I  am  sure  I 
wish  you  well. 

"  Poor  Kitty  has  done  what  we  have  all  to  do,  and  Lucy  has  the  world  to 
oegin  anew  :  I  hope  she  will  find  some  way  to  more  content  than  I  left  her  ' 
possessing. 

"  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Hinckley  and  Miss  Turton. 
I  am,  Madam,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam  Johnson.'* 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

1168. 

ftate  of  Johnson's  Mind — Visit  to  Town-mailing — Prologue  to  Go  Ismith's  "  Good-matureJ 
Man  " — Boswell  publishes  his  "  Account  of  Corsica  " — Practice  of  the  Law — Novels  anri 
Comedies— The  Douglas  Cause— Reading  MSS.— St.  Kilda— Oxford— Guthrie— Hunie^ 
Robertson — Future  Life  of  Brutes— Scorpions — Maupertuis — Woodcocks — Swallows— BeU'K 
Travels— Chastity— Choice  of  a  Wife— Baretti's  Italy— Libeitj—Kcnrick— Thou-.son— 
Monsey — Swift — Lord  Eglingtoune— Letter  on  the  Formation  of  a  Library — Boswell  at  the 
Stratford  Jubilee — Johnson's  Opinion  of  the  "  Account  of  Corsica." 

It  appears  from  his  notes  of  the    state  of  his  mind,  that  he  suf- 
fered great  perturbation  and  distraction  in  1T68. 

"Town-mailing,  in  Kent,  18th  Sept.,  1*768,  at  night. — I  have  now  begun 
the  sixtieth  year  of  my  hfe.  How  the  last  year  has  past,  I  am  unwilling  to 
terrify  myself  with  thinking.  This  day  has  been  past  in  great  perturba- 
tion :  I  was  distracted  at  church  in  an  uncommon  degree,  and  my  distress  has 
had  very  little  intermission.  I  have  found  myself  somewhat  relieved  by  read- 
ing, which  I  therefore  intend  to  practise  when  I  am  able.  This  day  it  came 
into  my  mind  to  write  the  history  of  my  melancholy.  On  this  I  purpose  to 
deliberate  ;  I  know  not  whether  it  may  not  too  much  disturb  me." 

Nothing  of  his  writings  was  given  to  the  public  this  year,  except 
the  Prologue*  to  his  friend  Goldsmith's  comedy  of  "  The  Good- 
natured  Man."  The  first  lines  of  this  Prologue  are  strongly  charac- 
teristical  of  the  dismal  gloom  of  his  mind  ;  which  in  his  case,  as  in 
the  case  of  all  who  are  distressed  with  the  same  malady  of  imagina- 
tion, transfers  to  others  its  own  feelings.  Who  could  suppose  it  was 
to  introduce  a  comedy,  when  Mr.  Bensley  solemnly  began, 

"  Press'd  with  the  load  of  life,  the  weary  mind 
Surveys  the  general  toil  of  human  kind." 

But  this  dark  ground  might  make  Goldsmith's  humour  shine  the 
more ' 

'  In  this  prologue,  after  the  line — "  And  social  sorrow  loses  half  its  pain,"  the  follow^g 
couplet  was  inserted  :^ 

VOL.1.  19     .  ^ 


431  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  ^^"*- 

In  the  spring  of  this  year,  having  published  my  "Account  of  Cor- 
sica, with  the  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  that  Island,"  I  returned  to  Lon- 
don, very  desirous  to  see  Dr.  Johnson,  and  hear  him  upon  the  subject 
I  found  he  was  at  Oxford,  with  his  friend  Mr.  Chambers,  who  was 
now  Vinerian  Professor,  and  lived  in  New-Inn  Hall.  Having  had 
no  letter  from  him  since  that  in  which  he  criticised  the  Latinity  of 
ray  Thesis,  and  having  been  told  by  somebody  that  he  was  offended 
at  my  having  put  into  my  book  an  extract  of  his  letter  to  me  at 
Paris,  I  was  impatient  to  be  with  him,  and  therefore  followed  him 
to  Oxford,  where  I  was  entertained  by  Mr.  Chanibers,  with  a  civility 
which  I  shall  ever  gratefully  remember.  I  found  that  Dr.  Johnson 
had  sent  a  letter  to  me  to  Scotland,  and  that  I  had  nothing  to  com- 
plain of  but  his  being  more  indifferent  to  my  anxiety  than  I  wished 
him  to  be.  Instead  of  giving,  with  the  circumstances  of  time  and 
place,  such  fragments  of  his  conversation  as  I  preserved  during  this 
visit  to  Oxford,  I  shall  throw  them  together  in  continuation, 

I  asked  him  whether,  as  a  moralist,  he  did  not  think  that  the 
practice  of  the  law,  in  some  degree,  hurt  the  nice  feeling  of  honesty. 
Johnson.  "  Why  no.  Sir,  if  you  act  properly.  You  are  not  to  de- 
ceive your  clients  with  false  representations  of  your  opinions  :  you 
are  not  to  tell  lies  to  a  Judge."  Boswell.  "  But  what  do  you  think 
of  supporting  a  cause  which  you  know  to,  be  bad  ?"  Johnson.  "  Sir, 
you  do  not  know  it  to  be  good  or  bad  till  the  Judge  determines  it. 
I  have  said  that  you  are  to  state  facts  fairly  ;  so  that  your  think- 
ing, or  what  you  call  knowing,  a  cause  to  be  bad,  must  be  from 
reasoning,  must  be  from  your  supposing  your  arguments  to  be  weak 
and  inconclusive.  But,  Sir,  that  is  not  enough.  An  argument 
which  does  not  convince  yourself,  may  convince  the  Judge  to  whom 
you  urge  it  ;  and  if  it  does  convince  him,  why,  then.  Sir,  you  are 
wrong,  and  he  is  right.  It  is  his  business  to  judge  ;  and  you  ai'e  not 
to  be  confident  in  your  own  opinion  that  a  cause  is  bad,  but  to  say 

"  Amidst  the  toils  of  this  returning  year, 
WhensenaiorA  and  nobles  learn  to  fear, 
Our  little  bard  without  complaint  may  share 
The  bustling  season's  epidemic  care." 
So  the  prologue  appeared  in  the  Puhlio  Ad've?'iiser.    Goldsmith  probably  thougnt  that  the 
fines  printed  in  Italic  characters  might  give  offence,  and  therefore  prevailed  on  Johnson  to 
omit  them.     The  epithet  little,  which  perhaps  the  author  thought  might  diminish  his  dignity, 
ws^  hIso  changed  to  anxious. — M. 


^''^'•'*-  NOVELS    AND    COMEDlK«.  4.'l> 

all  you  can  for  your  client,  and  then  hear  the  Judge's  opniion.^ 
BoswELL.  "  But,  Sir,  does  not  affecting  a  warmth  when  you  have  no 
warmth,  and  appearing  to  be  clearly  of  one  opinion  when  you  are  in 
reality  of  another  opinion,  does  not  such  dissimulation  impair  one's 
lionesty  ?  Is  there  not  some  danger  that  a  lawyer  may  put  on  the 
(same  mask  in  common  life,  in  the  intercourse  with  his  friends  ?'- 
Johnson.  "  Why  no.  Sir.  Everybody  knows  you  are  paid  for  affecting 
warmth  for  your  client;  and  it  is,  therefore,  properly  no  dissimulation : 
the  moment  you  come  from  the  bar  you  resume  your  usual  behaviour 
Sir,  a  man  will  no  more  carry  the  artifice  of  the  bar  into  the  com- 
mon intercourse  of  society,  than  a  man  who  is  paid  for  tumbling 
upon  his  l\ands  will  continue  to  tumble  upon  his  hands  when  he 
should  walk  on  his  feet.' 

Talking  of  some  of  the  modern  plays,  he  said,  "  False  Delicacy,"* 
was  totally  void  of  character.  He  praised  Goldsmith's  "  Good- 
natured  Man  ;"  said  it  was  the  best  comedy  that  had  appeared  since 
"  The  Provoked  Husband,"  and  that  there  had  not  been  of  late  any 
Buch  character  exhibited  on  the  stage  as  that  of  Croaker.  I  ob- 
served it  was  the  Suspirius  of  his  Rambler  [No.  59].  He  said, 
Goldsmith  had  owned  he  had  borrowed  it  from  thence.  "  Sir,"  con- 
tinued he,  "  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  charac- 
ters of  nature  and  characters  of  manners  ;  and  there  is  the  difference 
between  the  characters  of  Fielding  and  those  of  Richardson.  Cha- 
racters of  manners  are  very  entertaining  ;  l)ut  they  are  to  be 
understood  by  a  more  superficial  observer  than  characters  of 
nature,  where  a  man  must  dive  into  the  recesses  of  the  human 
heart." 

It  always  appeared  to  me,  .that  he  estimated  the  compositions  of 
Richardson  too  highly,  and  that  he  had  an  unreasonable  prejudice 
against  Fielding.'  In  comparing  those  two  writers,  he  used  this 
expression  ;  "  that  there  was  as  great  a  difference  between  them,  as 
between  a  man  who  knew  how  a  watch  was  made,  and  a  man  who 

'  See  pofit,  Aug.  15,  1773,  where  Johnson  has  supported  the  same  argument. — J.  Bos- 
WEI.L,  jun. 

"  By  Hugh  Kelly.     He  died,  an.  astat  38,  Feb.  3,  1777. 

3  How  charming,  how  wholesome,  Fielding  is !  To  take  him  up  after  Richardson,  Is  like 
snierging  from  a  sick-room  heated  by  stoves,  into  an  open  lawn,  on  a  breezy  day  in  May. — 
COLKUiDGE,  Table  Talk. 


4:16  tJFE    OF   JOHNSOJ^.  ^''^^ 

could  tell  the  hour  by  lookiug  on  the  dial-plate."  This  was  a  short 
and  figurative  state-of  his  distinction  between  drawing  characters 
of  nature  and  characters  only  of  manners.  But  I  cannot  help  being 
of  opinion,  that  the  neat  watches  of  Fielding  are  as  well  constructed 
as  the  large  clocks  of  Eichardson,  and  that  his  dial-plates  are 
brighter.  Fielding's  characters,  though  they  do  not  expand  them- 
selves so  widely  in  dissertation,  are  as  just  pictures  of  human  nature, 
and  I  will  venture  to  say,  have  more  striking  features,  and  nicer 
touclies  of  the  pencil  ;  and  though  Johnson  used  to  quote  with  ap- 
probation a  saying  of  Richardson's,  "  that  the  virtues  of  Fielding's 
heroes  were  the  vices  of  a  truly  good  man,"  I  will  venture  to  add, 
that  the  moral  tendency  of  Fielding's  writings,  though  it  does  not 
encourage  a  strained  and  rarely  possible  virtue,  is  ever  favourable 
to  honour  and  honesty,  and  cherishes  the  benevolent  and  generous 
affections.  He  who  is  as  good  as  Fielding  would  make  him,  is  an 
amiable  member  of  society,  and  may  be  led  on  by  more  regulated 
instructors,  to  a  higher  state  of  ethical  perfection.' 

Johnson  proceeded;  "Even  Sir  Francis  Wronghead  *  is  a  cha- 
racter of  manners,  though  drawn  with  great  humour."  He  then 
repeated,  very  happily,  all  Sir  Francis's  credulous  account  to  Manly 
of  his  being  with  "  the  great  man,"  and  securing  a  place.  I  asked 
him,  if  "The  Suspicious  Husband"^  did  not  furnish  a  well-drawn 
character,  that  of  Ranger.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  Ranger  is  just  a 
rake,  a  mere  rake,  and  a  lively  young  fellow,  but  no  character." 

The  great  Douglas  Cause  was  at  this  time  a  very  general  subject 
of  discussion.  I  found  he  had  not  studied  it  with  much  attention,* 
but  had  only  heard  parts  of  it  occasionally.     He,  however,  talked 

'  Johnson  was  inclined,  as  being  personally  acquainted  with  Richardson,  to  favour  the  opi- 
nion of  his  admirers  that  he  was  acquainted  with  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  human  heart,  and 
bad  an  absolute  command  over  the  passions  ;  but  he  seemed  not  firm  in  it,  and  could  at  any- 
time be  tallied  into  a  disai)probation  of  all  fictitious  relations,  of  which  he  would  frequently 
say,  they  took  no  hold  of  the  mind. — Hawkins. 

2  In  the  comedy  of  The  Provol^ed  Husband,  begun  by  Sir  John  Vanbrugh  and  finished  by 
CoUey  Gibber. 

•*  By  Dr.  Benjamin  Hoadly.  Garrick's  inimitable  performance  of  Ranger  was  the  main  sup- 
port of  the  piece  during  its  first  run.  George  II.  was  so  well  pleased  with  this  comedy,  that  he 
Bent  the  author  one  hundred  pounds. 

4  Boswell,  who  was  counsel  on  the  side  of  Mr.  Dougrlas,  had  published,  in  ITCG,  a  pamphlet 
entitled  the  "  Essence  of  the  Douglas  Cause,"  but  which,  It  will  be  seen,  post,  April  S7, 1773,  ho 
could  not  induce  .lohnson  over  to  read. 


■*TAT.  69.  READING   M33.  431 

of  it,  aud  said,  "  I  am  of  opinion  that  positive  proof  of  fraud  should 
not  be  required  of  tlie  plaintiff,  but  that  the  Judges  should  decide 
according  as  probability  shall  appear  to  preponderate,  granting  to 
the  defendant  the  presumption  of  filiation  to  be  strong  in  his  favour. 
And  I  think  too,  that  a  good  deal  of  weight  should  be  allowed  to 
the  dying  declarations,  becau^  they  were  spontaneous.  There  is  a 
great  difference  between  what  is  said  without  our  being  urged  to  it, 
and  what  is  said  from  a  kind  of  compulsion.  If  I  praise  a  man's 
book  without  being  asked  my  opinion  of  it,  that  is  honest  praise,  to 
which  one  may  trust.  But  if  an  author  asks  me  if  I  like  his  book, 
and  I  give  him  something  like  praise,  it  must  not  be  taken  as  my 
real  opinion." 

"  I  have  not  been  troubled  for  a  long  time  with  authors  desiring 
my  opinion  of  their  works.  I  used  once  to  be  sadly  plagued  with  a 
man  who  wrote  verses,  but  who  literally  had  no  other  notion  of  a 
verse,  but  that  it  consisted  of  ten  syllables.  Lay  your  knife  and 
your  fork  across  your  plate,  was  to  him  a  verse  : 

"  Lay  your  knife  and  your  fork  across  your  plate." 

As  he  wrote  a  great  number  of  verses,  ne  sometimes  by  chance  made 
good  ones,  though  he  did  not  know  it.* 

He  renewed  his  promise  of  coming  to  Scotland,  and  going  with 
me  to  the  Hebrides,  but  said  he  would  now  content  himself  with  see- 
ing one  or  two  of  the  most  curious  of  them.  He  said,  "  Macaulay, 
who  writes  the  account  of  St.  Kilda,  set  out  w^ith  a  prejudice  against 
prejudice,  and  wanted  to  be  a  smart  modern  thinker  ;  a:  id  yet  he 
affirms  for  a  truth,  that  when  a  ship  arrives  there  all  the  inhabitants 
are  seized  with  a  cold." 

'  Dr.  Johnson  did  not  like  that  his  friends  should  bring  their  manuscripts  for  him  to  read, 
and  he  liked  still  less  to  read  them  when  they  were  brought :  sometimes,  however,  when  he 
could  not  refuse,  he  would  take  the  play  or  poem,  or  whatever  it  was,  and  give  the  people 
his  opinion  from  some  one  page  that  he  had  peeped  into.  A  gentleman  carried  him  his  tra- 
gedy, which,  because  he  loved  the  author,  Johnson  took,  and  it  lay  about  our  rooms  at 
Streatham  some  time.  "  What  answer  did  you  give  your  friend,  Sir  ?"  asked  I,  after  the  book 
had  been  called  for.  "  I  told  him,"  replied  he,  "  that  there  was  too  much  Tiff  and  Tirry  in 
it."  Seeing  me  laugh  most  violently,  "Why,  what  wouldst  have,  child?"  said  he;  "I  looked 
at  nothing  but  the  dramatis,  and  there  was  Tigranes  and  Tirid&tes,  or  Teribazus,  or 
uch  stuff.  A  man  can  tell  but  what  he  knows,  and  I  never  got  any  farther  than  the  first 
page." — Piozzi. 


i'^'i  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  .    I7«i 

Dr.  Jolin  Campbell,  the  celebrated  writer,  took  a  great  deal  of 
pains  to  ascertain  this  fact,  and  attempted  to  account  for  it  on  phy- 
sical principles,  from  the  effect  of  efiduvia  from  human  bodies.  John- 
son, at  another  time  [March  21,  1172],  praised  Macaulay  for  his 
"  magnanimity,^'  in  asserting  this  wonderful  story,  because  it  wan 
well  attested.  A  lady  of  Norfolk,  by  a*  letter  [Oct.  2,  1713]  to  my 
friend  Dr.  Burncy,  has  favoured  me  with  the  following  solution  : — 

"  Now  for  the  explication  of  this  seeming  mystery,  which  is  so  very  obvious 
as,  for  that  reason,  to  have  escaped  the  penetration  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  his 
friend,  as  well  as  that  oT  the  author.  Heading  the  book  with  my  ingenious 
friend,  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  Christian  of  Docking — after  ruminating  a  little,  '  The 
cause,'  says  he,  '  is  a  natural  one.  The  situation  of  St.  Kilda  renders  a  north- 
east wind  indispensably  necessary  before  a  stranger  can  land.  The  wind,  not 
the  stranger,  occasions  an  epidemic  cold.'  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  llr.  Macaulay 
18  dead ;  if  living,  this  solution  might  please  him,  as  I  hope  it  will  Mr.  Boswell, 
in  return  for  the  many  agreeable  hours  his  works  have  afforded  us." 

Johnson  expatiated  on  the  advantages  of  Oxford  for  learning. 
•'  There  is  here,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  such  a  progressive  emulation.  The 
students  are  anxious  to  appear  well  to  their  tutors  ;  the  tutors  are 
anxious  to  have  their  pupils  appear  well  in  the  college  ;  the  colleges  • 
are  anxious  to  have  their  students  appear  well  in  the  university;  and 
there  are  excellent  rules  of  discipline  in  every  college.  That  the 
rules  are  sometimes  ill  observed  may  be  true,  but  is  nothing  against 
the  system.  The  members  of  an  university  may,  for  a  season, 
be  unmindful  of  their  duty.  I  am  arguing  for  the  excellency  of  the 
institution." 

Of  Guthrie,  he  said,  "  Sir,  he  is  a  man  of  parts.  He  has  no  great 
regular  fund  of  knowledge  ;  but  by  reading  so  long,  and  writing  so 
long,  he  no  doubt  has  picked  up  a  good  deal." 

He  said  he  had  lately  been  a  long  while  at  Lichfield,  but  had 
grown  very  weary  before  he  left  it.  Boswell.  "  I  wonder  at  that, 
Sir  ;  it  is  your  native  place."  Johnson.  "  Why  so  is  Scotland  your 
native  place," 

His  prejudice  against  Scotland  appeared  remarkably  strong  at 
this  time.*     When  I  talked  of  our  advancement  in  literature,  "  Sir," 

*  Johnson's  invectives  against  Scotland,  in  common  conversation,  were  more  in  pleasantrj 
•ad  Bport  than  real  and  malignant;  for  no  man  was  more  visited  by  natives  of  that  couctty    ■ 


*TAi  rfi.  HUME ROBERTSON'.  439 

Baid  he,  "you  have  learnt  a  little  from  us,  and  you  think  yourselves 
very  great  men.  Ilume  would  never  have  written  history,  had  not 
Voltaire  written  it  before  him.  lie  is  an  echo  of  Voltaire."  Bos- 
well.  "  But,  Sir,  we  have  lord  Kamcs."  Johxson.  "  You  have 
lord  Karnes.  Keep  him  ;  ha,  ha,  ha  !  We  don't  envy  you  him. 
Do  you  ever  see  Dr.  Kobertson  ?"  Boswell.  "  Yes,  Sir."  John- 
son. "  Does  the  dog  talk  of  me  !"  Boswell.  "  Indeed,  Sir,  he  does, 
and  loves  you."  Thinking  that  I  now  had  him  in  a  corner,  and 
being  solicitous  for  the  literary  fame  of  my  country,  I  pressed  him 
for  his  opinion  on  the  merit  of  Dr.  Robertson's  History  of  Scotland, 
liut,  to  my  surprise,  he  escaped.  "  Sir,  I  love  Robertson,  and  I 
won't  talk  of  his  book." 

It  is  but  justice  both  to  him  and  Dr.  Robertson  to  add,  that 
though  he  indulged  himself  in  this  sally  of  wit,  he  had  too  good 
taste  not  to  be  fully  sensible  of  the  merits  of  that  admirable  work. 

An  essay,  written  by  Mr.  Dean,  a  divine  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, maintaining  the  future  life  of  brutes,'  by  an  explication  of 
certain  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  was  mentioned,  and  the  doctrine 
insisted  on  by  a  gentleman  who  seemed  fond  of  curious  speculation  ; 
Johnson,  who  did  not  like  to  hear  of  anything  concerning  a  future 
state  which  was  not  authorised  by  the  regular  canons  of  orthodoxy, 
discouraged  this  talk  ;  and  being  offended  at  its  continuation,  he 
watched  an  opportunity  to  give  the  gentleman  a  blow  of  reprehen- 
sion. So,  when  the  poor  speculatist,  with  a  serious  metaphysical  pen- 
sive face,  addressed  him,  "But  really.  Sir,  when  we  see  a  very  sen- 
sible dog,  we  don't  know  what  to  think  of  him  ;"  Johnson,  rolling 
with  joy  at  the  thought  which  beamed  in  his  eye,  turned  quickly 
round,  and  replied,  "  True,  Sir  :  and  when  we  see  a  very  foolish 
fellow,  we  don't  know  what  to  think  of  him."  He  then  rose  up, 
fitrided  to  the  fire,  and  stood  for  some  time  laughing  and  exulting. 

I  told  him  that  I  had  several  times,  when  in  Italy,  seen  the  expe- 
riment of  placing  a  scorpion  within  a  circle  of  burning  coals  ;  that 
it  ran  round  and  round  in  extreme  pain  ;  and  finding  no  way  to 

or  were  tliere  any  for  whom  he  had  a  greater  esteem  It  was  to  Dr.  Grainger,  a  ScotUst 
physician,  that  I  owed  my  first  acquaintance  with  Johnson,  in  1756. — Percy. 

I  '•  An  Essay  on  tlie  Future  Life  of  Brute  Creatures,  by  Richard  Dean,  curate  of  Middle- 
ton."  This  work  is  reviewed  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  1T63,  p.  177,  in  a  stj-le  very 
like  Johnson's ;  and  a  story  of  "  a  very  seopible  dog  "  is  noticed  with  ceasure, — Ct 


440  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON,       *  lT«k 

escape,  retired  to  the  centre,  and,  like  a  rue  Stoic  philosopher, 
darted  its  sting  into  its  head,  and  thus  at  once  freed  itself  from  its 
woes.  "  This  must  end  ^tmP  I  said,  this  was  a  curious  fact,  as  it 
showed  deliberate  suicide  in  a  reptile.  Johnson  would  not  admit 
the  fact.  He  said,  Maupertuis'  was  of  opinion  that  it  does  not  kill 
itself,  but  dies  of  the  heat;  that  it  gels  to  the  centre  of  the  circle,  as 
the  coolest  place  ;  that  its  turning  its  tail  in  upon  his  head  is  merely 
a  convulsion,  and  that  it  does  not  sting  itself.  He  said  he  would  be 
satisfied  if  the  great  anatomist  Morgagni,  after  dissecting  a  scorpion 
on  which  the  experiment  had  been  tried,  should  certify  that  its  sting 
had  penetrated  into  its  head. 

He  seemed  pleased  to  ialk  of  natural  philosophy.  "  That  wood- 
cocks," said  he,  "fly  over  the  northern  countries  is  proved,  because 
they  have  been  observed  at  sea.  Swallows  certainly  sleep  all  the 
winter.  A  number  of  them  conglobulate  together,  by  flying  round 
and  round,  and  then  all  in  a  heap  throw  themselves  under  water, 
and  lie  in  the  bed  of  a  river."  '  He  told  us,  one  of  his  first  essays 
was  a  Latin  poem  upon  the  glow-worm  ;  I  am  sorry  I  did  not  ask 
where  it  was  to  be  found. 

Talking  of  the  Russians  and  the  Chinese,  he  advised  me  to  read 
Bell's  Travels.  I  asked  him  whether  I  should  read  Du  Halde's 
Account  of  China.  "  Why  yes,"  said  he,  "  as  one  reads  such  a 
book  ;  that  is  to  say,  consult  it." 

He  talked  of  the  heinousness  of  the  crime  of  adultery,  by  which  the 
peace  of  families  was  destroyed.  He  said,  "  Confusion  of  progeny  con- 
stitutes the  essence  of  the  crime  ;  and  therefore  a  woman  who  breaks 
her  marriage  vows  is  much  more  criminal  than  a  man  who  does  it. 

1  I  should  think  it  impossible  not  to  wonder  at  the  variety  of  Johnson's  reading,  howevei 
desultory  it  might  have  been.  Who  could  have  imagined  that  the  High  Church  of  England- 
man  would  be  so  prompt  in  quoting  Maupertuis,  who,  I  am  sorry  to  think,  stands  in  the  list 
of  those  unfortunate  mistaken  men,  who  call  themselves  esp  fits  /oris.  I  have,  however,  a 
liigh  respect  for  that  philosopher  whom  the  great  Frederic  of  Prussia  loved  and  honoured,  aal 
addressed  pathetically  in  one  of  his  poems, 

"  Maupertuis,  cher  Maupertuis, 
Que  noire  vie  estpeu  de  chose." 

There  was  in  Maupertuis  a  vigour  and  yet  a  tenderness  of  sentiment,  united  with  strong 
Intellectual  powers,  and  uncommon  ardour  of  soul.     Would  he  had  been  a  Christian  !    I  can- 
not help  earnestly  venturing  to  hope  that  he  is  one  now. — B.     Maupertuis  died  in  '  759  at  the 
age  of  62,  in  the  arms  of  the  Bernoullis,  tres  Chretieivnement. — Bukney. 
i  TWs  story  has  been  entirely  exploded,  , 


«TiT.6t.  CHASTITY.  **l 

A  man,  to  be  sure,  is  criminal  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  but  he  does  not 
do  his  wife  a  very  material  injury,  if  he  does  not  insult  her  ;  if,  for 
instance,  from  mere  wantonness  of  appetite,  he  steals  privately  to  her 
chambermaid.  Sir,  a  wife  ought  not  greatly  to  resent  this.  I 
would  not  receive  home  a  daughter  who  had  run  away  from  hei* 
husband  on  that  account.  A  wife  should  study  to  reclaim  her  hus- 
band by  more  attention  to  please  him.  Sir,  a  man  will  not,  once  in 
a  hundred  instances,  leave  his  wife  and  go  to  a  harlot,  if  his  wife 
has  not  been  negligent  of  pleasing." 

Here  he  discovered  that  acute  discrimination,  that  solid  judgment, 
and  that  knowledge  of  human  nature,  for  which  he  was  upon  all 
occasions  remarkable.  Taking  care  to  keep  in  view  the  moral  and 
religious  duty,  as  understood  in  our  nation,  he  showed  clearly,  from 
reason  and  good  sense,  the  greater  degree  of  culpability  in  the  one 
sex  deviating  from  it  than  the  other ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  incul- 
cated a  very  useful  lesson  as  to  the  way  to  keep  him. 

I  asked  him  if  it  w\as  not  hard  that  one  deviation  from  chastity 
should  so  absolutely  ruin  a  young  woman.  Johnson.  "  Why  no, 
3ir  ;  it  is  the  great  principle  w^hich  she  is  taught.  When  she  has 
^iven  up  that  principle,  she  has  given  up  every  notion  of  female 
\ionour  and  virtue,  which  are  all  included  in  chastity." 

A  gentleman  talked  to  him  of  a  lady  whom  he  greatly  admired 
and  wished  to  marry,  but  was  afraid  of  her  superiority  ot"  talents. 
"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  you  need  not  be  afraid  ;  marry  her.  Before  a  year 
goes  about,  you'll  find  that  reason  much  weaker,  and  that  wit  not  so 
bright."  Yet  the  gentleman  may  be  justified  in  his  apprehension  by 
one  of  Dr.  Johnson's  admirable  sentences  in  his  Life  of  Waller  :  "  He 
doubtless  praised  many  whom  he  would  have  been  afraid  to  marry  ; 
and,  perhaps,  married  one  whom  he  would  have  been  ashamed  to 
praise.  Many  qualities  contribute  to  domestic  happiness,  upon  which 
poetry  has  no  colours  to  bestow  :  and.  many  airs  and  sallies  may 
delight  imagination,  which  he  who  flatters  them  never  can  ap- 
prove." ' 

'  The  general  and  constant  advice  he  gave,  when  consulted  about  the  choice  of  a  wife,  a 
orofession,  or  whatever  influences  a  man's  particular  and  immediate  happiness,  was  always 
to  reject  no  positive  good  from  fears  of  its  contrary  consequences.  "  Do  not,"  said  he,  "  for- 
bear to  marry  a  beautiful  woman,  if  you  can  find  such,  out  of  a  fancy  that  she  will  be  less 
constant  than  an  ugly  one;  or  condemn  yourself  to  the  society  of  coarseness  and  vulgarity, 

19* 


442  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON. 


•-T68. 


He  praised  Signor  Baretti.    "  His  account  of  Italy  is  a  very  euter- 

taiuing-  book  ;  and,  Sir,  I  know  no  man  who  carries  his  head  highei 

in  conversation  than  Baretti.     There  are  strong  powers  in  his  mind. 

He  has  not,  indeed,  many  hooks  ;  but  with  wliat  hooks  he  has,  he 

"grapples  very  forcibly." 

At  this  time  I  observed  upon  the  dial-plate  of  his  watch  a  short 
Greek  inscription,  taken  from  the  New  Testament,  Nf  ^  yap  epx^rai, 
being  the  first  words  of  our  Saviour's  solemn  admonition  to  the  im- 
provement of  that  time  which  is  allowed  us  to  prepare  for  eternity  ; 
"  the  night  cometh '  when  no  man  can  work."  He  some  time  after- 
wards laid  aside  this  dial-plate  ;  and  when  I  asked  him  the  reason, 
he  said,  "  It  might  do  very  well  upon  a  clock  which  a  man  keeps  in 
his  closet ;  but  to  have  it  upon  his  watch,  which  he  carries  about 
with  him,  and  which  is  often  looked  at  by  others,  might  be  censured 
as  ostentatious."  Mr.  Steevens  is  now  possessed  of  the  dial-plate 
inscribed  as  above. 

He  remained  at  Oxford  a  considerable  time.  I  was  obliged  to 
go  to  London,  where  I  received  this  letter,  which  had  been  returned 
from  Scotland. 

Letter  108.  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

"  Oxford,  March  23, 1T68. 

"  My  Dear  Boswell, — I  have  omitted  a  long  time  to  write  to  you,  without 

knowing  very  well  why.     I  could   now  tell  why  I  should  not  write ;  for  who 

would  write  to  men  who   publish    the   letters  of  their   friends,  without   their 

leave?*     Yet  I  write  to  you  in  spite  of  my  caution,  to  tell  you  that  I  shall  be 

for  fear  of  the  expenses  or  other  dangers  of  elegance  and  personal  charms,  which  havo  been 
always  acknov/Iedged  as  a  positive  good,  and  for  the  want  of  which  there  should  be  always 
given  some  weighty  compensation.  I  have,  however,"  continued  Mr.  Johnson,  "  seen  some 
prudent  fellows  who  forbore  to  connect  themselves  with  beauty  lest  coquetry  should  be  near, 
and  with  wit  or  birth  lest  insolence  should  lurk  behind  them,  till  they  have  been  forced  by 
their  discretion  to  linger  life  away  in  tasteless  stupidity,  and  choose  to  count  the  moments  by 
••emembrance  of  pain  instead  of  enjoyment  of  pleasure."  But  of  tlie  various  states  and  con- 
Oltions  of  humanity,  he  despised  none  more  than  the  man  who  marries  for  a  maintenance :  and 
of  a  friend  who  made  his  alliance  on  no  higher  principles,  he  said  once,  "  Now  has  that  fel- 
low "  (it  was  a  nobleman  of  whom  they  were  speaking)  "  at  length  obtained  a  certainty  of 
three  meals  a  day,  and  for  that  certainty,  like  his  brother  dog  in  the  fable,  he  will  get  his  neck 
(failed  for  life  with  a  collar." — Piozzi. 
'  Sir  W^alter  Scott  put  the  same  Greek  words  on  a  sun-dial  in  his  garden  at  Abbotsfoid. — 

r.  G.  L. 

"^  Mr.  Boswell,  in  his  "Journal  of  a  Tour  in  Corsica,"  had  printed  the  second  and  third 
paragraphs  of  Johnson's  letter  to  him  of  January  14, 1766, 


-*»-^'''-**.  QUI    ROGER.  NEWDIGATE.  443 

glad  tt,  see  you,  and  that  I  wish  you  would  empty  your  head  of  Corsica,  wnich 

I  think  has  filled  it  rather  too  long.     But,  at  all  events,  I  shall  be  glad,  very 

glad,  to  see  you.     I  am.  Sir,  yours  affectionately, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  answered  thus  : 

Letter  109.  TO  MR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  London,  April  26, 1768. 

"  My  Dear  Sir, — I  have  received  your  last  letter,  which,  though  very  short, 
and  by  no  means  coinpliuieiitary,  yet  gave  me  real  pleasure,  because  it  contains 
these  words,  '  I  shall  be  glad,  very  glad,  to  see  you.'— Surely  you  have  no  rea- 
son to  complain  of  my  publishing  a  single  paragraph  of  one  of  your  letters; 
the  temptation  to  it  was  so  strong.  An  irrevocable  grant  of  your  friendship, 
and  your  signifying  my  desire  of  visiting  Corsica  with  the  epithet  of  '  a  wise 
and  noble  curiosity,'  are  to  me  more  valuable  than  many  of  the  grants  of 
Vings. 

"But  how  can  you  bid  me  '  empty  my  head  of  Corsica?'  My  noble-minded 
'riend,  do  you  not  feel  for  an  oppressed  nation  bravely  struggling  to  be  free  ? 
Consider  fairly  what  is  the  case.  The  Corsicans  never  received  any  kindness 
from  the  Genoese.  They  never  agreed  to  be  subject  to  them.  They  owe  them 
nothing,  and  when  reduced  to  an  abject  state,  of  slavery,  by  force,  shall  they 
not  rise  in  the  great  cause  of  liberty,  and  break  the  galling  yoke  ?  And  shall 
not  every  liberal  soul  be  warm  for  them  ?  Empty  my  head  of  Corsica  !  Empty 
it  of  honour,  empty  it  of  humanity,  empty  it  of  friendship,  empty  it  of  piety. 
No!  while  I  live,  Corsica,  and  the  cause  of  the  brave  islanders,  shall  ever 
employ  much  of  my  attention,  shall  ever  interest  me  in  the  sincerest  manner. 
T  am,  &c. 

"James  Boswell.*^ 

Letter  110.  TO  MRS.  THRALE. 

"  Oxford,  March  24, 1768. 
"  Our  election  was  yesterday.  Every  possible  influence  of  hope  and  fear 
was,  I  believe,  enforced  on  this  occasion  ;  the  slaves  of  power,  and  the  solicit- 
ors of  favour,  were  driven  hither  from  the  remotest  corners  of  the  kingdom 
hut  judex  honestum  jii'cetulit  utili.  The  virtue  of  Oxford  has  once  more  pre- 
vailed. The  death  of  Sir  Walter  Bagot,  a  little  before  the  election,  left  them 
10  great  time  to  deliberate,  and  they  therefore  joined  to  Sir  Roger  Newdigate,' 
ilieir  old  representative,  an  Oxfordshire  gentleman  of  no  name,  no  great  inter- 
i.st,  nor  perhaps  any  other  merit,  than  that  of  being  on  the  right  side  ;  yet  wheu 
ihe  poll  was.  numbered,  it  produced — For  Sir  R.  Newdigate,  352 ;  Mr.  Pago, 
'JOG;  Mr.  Jenkinson,  19S;  Dr.  Hay,  62.     Of  this  I  am  sure  you  must  be  glad; 

'  Sir  Roger  Newdigate  died  in  1806,  in  his  eighty-seventh  year,  after  having  represented  tin 
!'niversity  of  Oxford  in  five  parliaments. 


444  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  ^^** 

ff  r,  without  inquiring  into  tiie  opinions  or  conduct  of  any  party,  it  must  be  for 
ever  pleasing  to  see  men  adhering  to  their  principles  against'  their  interest, 
especially  when  you  consider  that  those  voters  are  poor,  and  never  can  bfl 
much  less  poor  by  the  favour  of  those  whom  they  are  now  opposing." 


Lkttkr  111.  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  Oxford,  April  18, 1768. 

"  My  Dear,  Dear  Lote, — You  have  had  a  very  great  loss.'  To  lose  an  old 
Iriend,  is  to  be .  cut  off  from  a  great  part  of  the  little  pleasure  that  this  life 
allows.  But  such  is  the  condition  of  our  nature,  that  as  we  live  on  we  must 
see  those  whom  we  love  drop  successively,  and  find  our  circle  of  relations  grow 
less  and  less,  till  we  are  almost  unconnected  with  the  world ;  and  then  it  must 
soon  be  our  turn  to  drop  into  the  grave.  There  is  always  this  consolation,  that 
we  have  one  Protector  who  can  never  be  lost  but  by  our  own  fault,  and  every 
new  experience  of  the  uncertainty  of  all  other  comforts  should  determine  us 
to  fix  our  hearts  where  true  joys  are  to  be  found.  All  union  with  the  inha- 
bitants of  earth  must  in  time  be  broken ;  and  all  the  hopes  that  terminate  here, 
must  on  [one]  part  or  other  end  in  disappointment. 

"  I  am  glad  that  Mrs.  Adey  and  Mrs.  Cobb  do  not  leave  you  alone.  Pay  my 
respects  to  them,  and  the  Sewards,  and  all  my  friends.  When  Mr.  Porter 
comes,  he  will  direct  you.  Let  me  know  of  his  arrival,  and  I  will  write  to 
him. 

"  When  I  go  back  to  London,  I  will  take  care  of  your  reading-glass.  When- 
ever I  can  do  anything  for  you,  remember,  my  dear  darling,  that  one  of  my 
greatest  pleasures  is  to  please  you. 

"The  punctuality  of  your  correspondence  I  consider  as  a  proof  of  great  re 
gard.  When  we  shall  see  each  other,  I  know  not,  but  let  us  often  think  on  each 
other,  and  think  with  tenderness.  Do  not  forget  me  in  your  prayers.  I  have  for 
a  long  time  back  been  very  poorly  ;  but  of  what  use  is  it  to  complain?  Write 
often,  for  vour  letters  always  give  great  pleasure  to,  my  dear,  your  most  affec- 
tionate, and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Upon  his  arrival  in  London  in  May,  he  surprised  me  one  morning 
with  a  visit  at  my  lodging  in  Half-moon  Street,  v/as  quite  satisfied 
with  ray  explanation,  and  was  in  the  kindest  and  most  agreeable 
frame  of  mind.  As  he  had  objected  to  a  part  of  one  of  his  letters 
being  published,  I  thought  it  right  to  take  this  opportunity  of  asking 
him  explicitly  whether  it  would  be  improper  to  publish  his  letters 

'  The  death  of  her  aut',  Mrs.  Hunter,  widow  of  Johnson's  schoolmaster. 


*^*'   ^'-  POPULAR    LIHERTY.  448 

after  his  death.  His  answer  was,  "  Nay,  Sir,  wlieu  I  am  dead,  you 
may  do  as  you  will." 

lie  talked  in  his  usual  style  with  a  rough  contempt  of  popular 
liberty.  "  Tlicy  make  a  rout  about  universnl  liberty,  without  consi- 
dering that  all  that  \9  to  be  valued,  or  indeed,  con  be  enjoyed  by 
individuals,  is  private  liberty.  Political  liberty  is  good  only  so  far  as 
it  produces  private  liberty.  Now,  Sir,  there  is  the  liberty  of  the 
press,  which  you  know  is  a  constant  topic.  Suppose  you  and  I  and 
two  hundred  more  were  restraiued  from  printing  our  thoughts  : 
what  then  ?  What  proportion  would  that  restraint  upon  us  bear  to 
the  private  happiness  of  the  nation  ?" 

This  mode  of  representing  the  inconveniences  of  restraint  as  light 
and  insignilicant,  was  a  kind  of  sophistry  in  which  he  delighted  to 
indulge  himself,  in  opposition  to  the  extreme  laxity  for  which  it  has 
been  fashionable  for  too  many  to  argue,  when  it  is  evident,  upon 
reflection,  that  the  very  essence  of  govenunent  is  restraint  ;  and 
certain  it  is,  that  as  govenunent  produces  rational  hap[)iness,  too 
much  restraint  is  better  than  too  little.  But  when  restraint  is  unne- 
cessary, and  so  close  as  to  gall  those  who  are  subject  to  it,  the 
people  may  and  ought  to  remonstrate  ;  and,  if  relief  is  not  granted, 
to  resist.  Of  this  manly  and  spirited  i)rineiple,  no  man  was  more 
convinced  than  Johnson  himself. 

About  this  time,  Dr.  Kenrick  attacked  him,  through  my  sides,  in 
a  pamphlet  entitled,  "  An  Epistle  to  James  Boswell,  Esq.,  occasioned 
by  his  having  transmitted  the  moral  Writings  of  Dr.  Samuel  John- 
son to  Pascal  Paoli,  General  of  the  Corsicans."  I  was  at  first 
inclined  to  answer  this  parai)hlet ;  but  Johnson,  who  knew  that  my 
doing  so  would  only  gratify  Kenrick,  by  keeping  alive  what  would 
soon  die  away  of  itself,  would  not  suiier  me  to  take  any  notice 
of  it.' 

His  sincere  regard  for  Francis  Barber,  his  faithful  negro  servant, 

'  Johnson's  silence  proceedeil  not  more  from  his  couteuipt  of  sudi  an  adrcrsary,  than  from  a 
BetUed  resolution  he  bad  formed,  of  declining  all  controversy  in  defence  eitlierof  himself  or  of 
his  writin^ts.  Against  personal  abuse  he  was  ever  armed,  by  a  retleclion  that  I  have  hear«l 
him  utter  :-■"  Alas !  reputation  would  be  of  little  worth,  were  it  iu  the  poi^er  of  every  con- 
ceaUd  enemy  to  deprive  us  of  it ;"  and  he  defied  all  attacks  on  his  writings  by  an  answer  of 
Dr.  Uentley  to  one  who  threatened  to  write  him  down,  that  "  uo  autlior  was  ever  written 
down  but  by  himself. "—Uawkins. 


446  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON,  '  l^*** 

made  him  so  desirons  of  his  further  improvement,  that  he  now  placed 
him  at  a  school  at  Bishop  Stortford,  in  Hertfordshire.  This  humane 
attention  does  Johnson's  heart  much  honour.  Out  of  many  letters 
which  Mr.  Barber  received  from  his  master,  he  has  preserved  three, 
which  he  kindly  gave  me,  and  which  I  shall  insert  according  to  their 
dates. 

Letter  112.  TO  MR.  FRANCIS  BARBER.' 

"  May  28,  1768. 
"  Dear  Francis, — I  have  been  very  much  out  of  order.  I  am  glad  to  hear 
that  you  are  well,  and  design  to  come  soon  to  you.  I  would  have  you  stay  at 
Mrs.  Clapp's  for  the  present,  till  I  can  determine  what  we  shall  do.  Be  a  good 
boy.  My  compliments  to  Mrs.  Clapp  and  to  Mr.  Fowler.  I  am  yours  affec- 
tionately^ 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

Soon  afterwards,  he  supped  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor  tavern,  in 
the  Strand,  with  a  company  whom  I  collected  to  meet  him.  They 
were.  Dr.  Percy,  now  Bishop  of  Dromore,  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Bishop 
of  Salisbury,  Mr.  Langton,  Dr.  Robertson,  the  Historian,  Dr.  Hugh 
Blair,  and  Mr.  Thomas  Davies,  who  wished  much  to  be  introduced 
to  these  eminent  Scotch  literati ;  but  on  the  present  occasion  he  had 
very  Httle  opportunity  of  hearing  them  talk  ;  for,  with  an  excess  of 
prudence,  for  which  Johnson  afterwards  found  fault  with  them,  thev 
hardly  opened  their  lips,  and  that  only  to  say  something  which  thej 
were  certain  would  not  expose  them  to  the  sword  of  Goliath  ;  such 
was  their  anxiety  for  their  fame  when  in  the  presence  of  Johnson. 
He  was  this  evening  in  remarkable  vigour  of  mind,  and  eager  to 
exert  himself  in  conversation,  which  he  did  with  great  readiness  and 
fluency  ;  but  I  am  sorry  to  find  that  I  have  preserved  but  a  small 
part  of  what  passed. 

He  allowed  high  praise  to  Thomson  as  a  poet ;  but  when  one  of 
the  company  said  he  was  also  a  very  good  man,  our  moralist  con- 
tested this  with  great  warmth,  accusing  him  of  gross  sensuality  and 
licentiousness  of  manners.  I  was  very  much  afraid  that,  in  writing 
Thomson's  life,  Dr.  Johnson  would  have  treated  his  private  character 

1  When  Mrs.  Williams  and  Francis  quarrelled,  as  was  very  frequent,  the  lady  would  com- 
plain.to  the  doctor,  adding,  "  This  is  your  scholar,  on  whose  education  you  have  spent  £.300." 
Dr.  Johnson,  in  the  conclusion  of  the  letter,  calls  him  a  "  ioy,"  but  sixteen  years  had  already 
»iapsed  since  h«  entered  Johnson's  own  service. — 0. 


^^^■^-  ^^-  m.    PERCY — SWIFT.  44t 

with  a  stf  in  severity,  but  I  was  agreeably  disappointed  ;  and  1  may 
claim  a  li  /tie  merit  in  it,  from  my  having  been  at  pains  to  send  him 
authentic  accounts  of  the  afifectionate  and  generous  conduct  of  that 
poet  to  lis  sisters,  one  of  whom,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Thomson,  school- 
master rt  Lanark,  I  knew,  and  was  presented  by  her  with  three  of 
bis  lette  :s,  one  of  which  Dr.  Johnson  has  inserted  in  his  hfe. 

He  wis  vehement  against  old  Dr.  Monsey,'  of  Chelsea  College,  as 
"  a  fell  >w  who  swore  and  talked  bawdy."  "  I  have  been  often  in 
his  COB  pany,"  said  Dr.  Percy,  "  and  never  heard  him  swear  or  talk 
bawdy. ''  Mr.  Davies,  who  sat  next  to  Dr.  Percy,  having  after  this 
had  soi-ae  conversation  aside  with  him,  made  a  discovery,  which,  in 
his  zef.l  to  pay  court  to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  eagerly  proclaimed  aloud 
from  t^e  foot  of  the  table  :  "  Oh,  Sir,  I  have  found  out  a  very  good 
reaso-A  why  Dr.  Percy  never  heard  Mousey  swear  or  talk  bawdy  ; 
for  ho  tells  me  he  never  saw  him  but  at  the  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land's table."  "  And  so,  Sir,"  said  Dr.  Johnson  loudly  to  Dr.  Percy, 
"  you  would  shield  this  man  from  the  charge  of  swearing  and  talk- 
ing bawdy,  because  he  did  not  do  so  at  the  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land's table.  Sir,  you  might  as  well  tell  us  that  you  had  seen  him 
hold  up  his  hand  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and  he  neither  swore  nor  talked 
bawdy  ;  or  that  you  had  seen  him  in  the  cart  at  Tyburn,  and  he 
neither  swore  nor  talked  bawdy.  And  is  it  thus.  Sir,  that  you  p'e- 
sume  to  controvQ^'t  what  I  have  related  ?"  Dr.  Johnson's  animad- 
version was  uttered  in  such  a  manner,  that  Dr.  Percy  seemed  to  be 
displeased,  .and  soon  afterwards  left  the  company,  of  which  Johnson 
did  not  at  that  time  take  any  notice. 

Swift  having  been  mentioned,  Johnson,  as  usual,  treated  him  with 
little  respect  as  an  author.  Some  of  us  endeavoured  to  support  the 
Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  by  various  arguments.  One,  in  particular 
praised  his  "  Conduct  of  the  Allies."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  his  '  Con 
duct  of  the  Allies '  is  a  performance  of  very  little  ability."  "  Surely 
Sir,"  said  Dr.  Douglas,    "  you   must  allow  it  has  strong  facts." 

'  Messenger  Monsey,  M.D.,  was  born  at  Norfolk,  in  1G93,  and  died  at  Chelsea  College,  Dec. 
86, 1788,  at  the  great  age  of  ninety-five. 

"  My  respectable  friond,  upon  reading  this  passage,  observed,  that  he  probably  must  have 
said  not  simply  "  strong  facts,"  but  "strong  facts  well  arranged."  His  Lordsliip,  however, 
knows  too  well  the  value  of  written  documents  to  insist  on  setting  his  recr  llection  against  my 
Bot«8  t»ken  at  the  time.    He  does  not  attempt  to  traverse  the  record.    The  fact,  perhap«| 


148  LIFE    OF    JOHNSON.  '*•*• 

Johnson.  "  Why  yes,  Sir  ;  but  what  is  that  to  the  merit  of  the 
composition  ?  In  the  Sessions-paper  of  the  Old  Bailey  there  are 
strong  facts.  Housebreaking  is  a  strong  fact ;  robbery  I5  a  strong 
fact ;  and  murder  is  a  mighty  strong  fact :  but  is  great  praise  due 
to  the  historian  of  those  strong  facts  ?  No,  Sir,  Swift  has  told 
what  he  had  to  tell  distinctly  enough,  but  that  is  all.  He  had  to 
count  ten,  and  he  has  counted  it  right."  Then  recollecting  that 
Mr.  Davies,  by  acting  as  an  informer,  had  been  the  occasion  of  his 
talking  somewhat  too  harshly  to  his  friend  Dr.  Percy,  for  which, 
probably,  when  the  first  ebullition  was  over,  he  felt  some  compunc- 
tion, he  took  an  opportunity  to  give  him  a  hit :  so  added,  with  a 
preparatory  laugh,  "  Why,  Sir,  Tom  Davies  might  have  written 
'  The  Conduct  of  the  Allies.' "  Poor  Tom  being  thus  suddenly 
dragged  into  ludicrous  notice  in  presence  of  the  Scottish  doctors,  to 
whom  he  was  ambitious  of  appearing  to  advantage,  was  grievously 
mortified.  Nor  did  his  punishment  rest  here  ;  for,  upon  subsequent 
occasions,  whenever  he,  "  statesman  all  over,"  '  assumed  a  strutting 
importance,  I  used  to  hail  him — "  the  Author  of  the  Conduct  of  the 
Allies." 

When  I  called  upon  Dr.  Johnson  next  morning,  I  found  him 
highly  satisfied  with  his  colloquial  prowess  the  preceding  evening. 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  we  had  good  talk."  Boswell.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  you 
tossed  and  gored  several  persons." 

The  late  Alexander  Earl  of  Eglingtoune,^  who  loved  wit  more 
than  wine,  and  men  of  genius  more  than  sycophants,  had  a  great 
admiration  of  Johnson  ;  but,  from  the  remarkable  elegance  of  his 
own  manners,  was,  perhaps,  too  delicately  sensible  of  the  roughness 
which  sometimes  appeared  in  Johnson's  behaviour.  One  evening 
about  this  time,  when  his  lordship  did  me  the  honour  to  sup  at  my 
lodgings  with  Dr.  Robertson  and  several  other  men  of  literary  dis- 
tinction, he  regretted  that  Johnson  had  not  been  educated  with 
more  refinement,  and  lived  more  in  polished  society.     "  No,  no,  my 

may  have  been,  either  that  the  additional  words  escaped  me  in  the  noise  of  a  numerous  com- 
pany, or  that  Dr.  Johnson,  from  his  injpetuosity,  and  eagerness  to  seize  an  opportunity  %» 
make  a  lively  retort,  did  not  allow  Dr.  Douglas  to  finish  his  sentence. 

^  See  the  hard  drawing  of  him  in  Churchill's  "  Eosciad." 

^  Tenth  earl,  who  was  shot,  in  17C9,  by  Mungo  Campbell,  whose  fowling-piece  Lord  Kglin 
k.'Wne  attempted  to  seize. 


^.•JAT.  55.  LETTER   TO   THE    KINg's    LIBRARIAN.  44d 

lord,"  said  Signor  Baretti,  "  do  with  liira  what  you  would,  he  would 
always  have  been  a  bear."  "  True,"  answered  the  earl,  with  a 
smile,  "  but  he  would  have  been  a  dancing  bear." 

To  obviate  all  the  reflections  which  have  gone  round  the  world 
to  Johnson's  prejudice,  by  applying  to  him  the  epithet  of  bear,  let 
me  impress  upon  my  readers  a  just  and  happy  saying  of  my  friend 
Goldsmith,  who  knew  him  well  : — "  Johnson,  to  be  sure,  has  a 
roughness  in  his  manner  ;  but  no  man  alive  has  a  more  tender 
heart.     He  has  nothing  of  the  hear  hut  his  sJdnJ'  ' 

Letter  113.  TO  F.  A.  BARNARD,  ESQ." 

"May  28, 1763, 

"  Sir, — It  is  natural  for  a  scholar  to  interest  himself  in  an  expedition,  under- 
taken, like  yours,  for  the  importation  of  literature ;  and  therefore,  though, 
having  never  travelled  myself,  I  am  very  little  qualified  to  give  advice  to  a 
traveller ;  yet,  that  I  may  not  seem  inattentive  to  a  design  so  worthy  of  re- 
gard, I  will  try  whether  the  present  state  of  my  health  will  suifer  me  to  lay 
before  you  what  observation  or  report  have  suggested  to  me,  that  may  direct 
your  inquiries,  or  facilitate  your  success.  Things  of  which  the  mere  rarity 
makes  the  value,  and  which  are  prized  at  a  high  rate  by  a  wantonness  rather 
than  by  use,  are  always  passing  from  poorer  to  richer  countries  ;  and  there- 
fore, though  Germany  and  Italy  were  principally  productive  of  typographical 
curiosities,  I  do  not  much  imagine  that  they  are  now  to  be  found  there  in 
great  abundance.  An  eagerness  for  scarce  books  and  early  editions,  which 
prevailed  among  the  English  about  half  a  century  ago,  filled  our  shops  with 
all  the  splendour  and  nicety  of  literature;  and  when  the  Harleian  Catalogue 
was  published,  many  of  the  books  were  bought  for  the  library  of  the  King  of 
France. 

"1  believe,  however,  that  by  the  diligence  with  which  you  have  enlarged 
the  library  under  your  care,  the  present  stock  is  so  nearly  exhausted,  that,  till 
new  purchases  supply  the  booksellers  with  new  stores,  you  will  not  be  able  to 
do  much  more  than  glean  up  single  books,  as  accident  shall  produce  them  ; 
this,  therefore,  is  the  time  for  visiting  the  continent. 

"What  addition  you  can  hope  to  make  by  ransacking  other  countries  we 
will  now  consider.  English  literature  you  will  not  seek  in  any  place  but  in 
England.  Classical  learning  is  diffused  everywhere,  and  is  not,  except  by  ac- 
cidenfr,  more  copious  in  one  part  of  the  polite  world  than  in  another.  But 
every  country  has  literature  of   its    own,    which  may   be  best  gathered    in 

1  It  was  droUy  said,  in  reference  to  the  pensions  granted  to  Doctors  Shebbeare  and  /otui< 
ion,  that  tlie  King  had  pensioned  a  She-hear  and  a  He-hear. 

*  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir  Francis,  Barnard  was  Librarian  to  King  George  III. 


450  LIFE    OV   JOHNSOi?.  ^^^ 

its  native  soil.  The  studies  of  tlie  learned  are  influenced  by  forms  of  goveru- 
meiit  and  modes  of  religion ;  and,  therefore,  those  books  are  necessary  and 
3ommon.in  some  places,  which,  where  different  opinions  or  different  manners 
prevail,  are  of  little  use,  and  for  that  reason  rarely  to  be  found. 

"  Thus  in  Italy  you  may  expect  to  meet  with  canonists  and  scholastic 
divines,  in  Germany  with  writers  on  the  feudal  laws,  and  in  Holland  with 
civilians.  The  schoolmen  and  canonists  must  not  be  neglected,  for  they  are 
useful  to  many  purposes ;  nor  too  anxiously  sought,  for  their  influence  among 
us  is  much  lessened  by  the  Reformation.  Of  the  canonists  at  least  a  few  emi- 
nent writers  may  be  sufficient.  The  feudal  and  civil  law  I  cannot  but  wish  to 
see  complete.  The  feudal  constitution  is  the  original  of  the  law  of  property, 
over  all  the  civilised  part  of  Europe  ;  and  the  civil  law,  as  it  is  generally  un- 
derstood to  include  the  law  of  nations,  may  be  called  with  great  propriety  a 
regal  study.  Of  these  books,  which  have  been  often  published,  and  diversi- 
fied by  various  modes  of  impression,  a  royal  library  should  have  at  least  the 
most  curious  edition,  the  most  splendid  and  the  most  useful.  The  most  curi- 
ous edition  is  commonly  the  first,  and  the  most  useful  may  be  expected  among 
the  last.  Thus,  of  Tully's  Offices,  the  edition  of  Fust  is  the  most  curious,  and 
that  of  GriBvius  the  most  useful.  The  most  splendid  the  eye  will  discern. 
With  the  old  printers  you  are  now  bec;Ome  well  acquainted ;  if  you  can  find 
any  collection  of  their  production."  to  be  sold,  you  will  undoubtedly  buy  it ; 
but  this  can  scarcely  be  hoped,  and  you  must  catch  up  single  volumes  where 
you  can  find  them.  In  every  place  things  often  occur  where  they  are  least 
expected.  I  was  shown  a  Welsh  grammar  written  in  Welsh,  and  printed  at 
Milan,  I  believe,  before  any  grammar  of  that  language  had  been  printed  here. 
Of  purchasing  entire  libraries,  I  know  not  whether  the  inconvenience  may  not 
overbalance  the  advantage.  Of  libraries  connected  with  general  views,  one 
will  have  many  books  in  common  with  another.  When  you  have  bought  two 
collections,  you  will  find  that  you  have  bought  many  books  twice  over,  and 
many  in  each  which  you  have  left  at  home,  and,  therefore,  did  not  want ;  and 
when  you  have  selected  a  small  number,  you  will  have  the  rest  to  sell  at  a 
great  loss,  or  to  transport  hither  at  perhaps  a  greater.  It  will  generally  be 
more  commodious  to  buy  the  few  that  you  want,  at  a  price  somewhat  ad- 
vanced, tlian  to  encumber  yourself  with  useless  books.  But  libraries  collected 
for  particular  studies  will  be  very  valuable  acquisitions.  The  collection  of  an 
eminent  civilian,  feudist,  or  mathematician,  will  perhaps  have  very  few  suner« 
fluities.  Topography  or  local  history  prevails  much  in  many  parts  of  the  con- 
tinent. I  have  been  told  that  scarcely  a  village  of  Italy  wants  its  historian. 
These  books  may  be  generally  neglected,  but  some  will  deserve  attention  by 
the  celebrity  of  the  place,  the  eminence  of  the  authors,  or  the  beauty  of  the 
sculptures.  Sculpture  has  always  been  more  cultivated  among  other  nations 
than  among  us.  The  old  art  of  cutting  on  wood,  which  decorated  the  books 
of  ancient  impression,  was  never  carried  here  to  any  excellence ;  and  the 
practice  of  engraving  on  copper,  which  succeeded,  has  never  been  much  em- 


^TAT.  B9.  LETTER   TO   THE    KIXg's    LIBRARIAN.  451 

ployed  among  us  in  udorning  books.  The  old  books  with  wooden  cuts  are  to 
be  diligently  sought ;  the  designs  were  often  made  by  great  masters,  and  the 
prints  are  such  as  cannot  be  made  by  any  artist  now  living.  It  will  be  of  great 
use  to  collect  in  every  place  maps  of  the  adjacent  country,  and  plans  of  towns, 
Duildings,  and  gardens.  By  this  care  you  will  form  a  more  valuable  body  of 
geography  than  can  otherwise  be  had.  Many  countries  have  been  very  ex- 
actly surveyed,  but  it  must  not  be  expected  that  the  exactness  of  actual  men- 
suration will  be  preserved,  when  the  maps  are  reduced  by  a  contracted  scale, 
and  incorporated  into  a  general  system. 

"  The  king  of  Sardinia's  Italian  dominions  are  not  large,  yet  the  maps 
made  of  them  in  the  reign  of  Victor  fill  two  Atlantic  folios.  This  part  of 
your  design  will  deserve  particular  regard,  because,  in  this,  your  success  will 
always  be  proportioned  to  your  diligence.  You  are  too  well  acquainted  with 
literary  history  not  to  knovf,  that  many  books  derive  their  value  from  the 
reputation  of  the  printers.  Of  the  celebrated  printers  you  do  not  need  to  be 
informed,  and  if  you  did,  might  consult  Baillet,  Jugemens'des  S9avans.  The 
productions  of  Aldus  are  enumerated  in  the  Bibliotheca  Graeca,  so  that  you 
may  know  when  you  have  them  all ;  which  is  always  of  use,  as  it  prevents 
needless  search.  The  great  ornaments  of  a  library,  furnished  for  magnificence 
as  well  as  use,  are  the  first  editions,  of  which,  therefore,  I  would  not  willingly 
neglect  the  mention.  You  know,  sir,  that  the  annals  of  typography  begin  with 
the  Codex,  1467  ;  but  there  is  great  reason  toi)elieve,  that  there  are  latent,  in 
obscure  corners,  books  printed  before  it.  The  secular  feast,  in  memory  of  the 
invention  of  printing,  is  celebrated  in  the  fortieth  year  of  the  century  ;  if  this 
tradition,  therefore,  is  right,  the  art  had  in  1457  been  already  exercised  nine- 
teen years. 

"  There  prevails  among  typographical  antiquaries  a  vague  opinion,  that  the 
Bible  had  been  printed  three  times  before  the  edition  of  1462,  which  Calmet 
calls  '  La  premiere  edition  bicn  averee.'  One  of  these  editions  has  been  lately 
discovered  in  a  convent,  and  transplanted  into  the  French  king's  library. 
Another  copy  has  likewise  been  found,  but  I  know  not  whether  of  the  same 
impression,  or  anotlier.  These  discoveries  are  sufficient  to  raise  hope  and 
instigate  inquiry.  In  the  purchase  of  old  books,  let  me  recommend  to  you  to 
inquire  with  great  caution,  whether  they  are  perfect.  In  the  first  edition  the 
loss  of  a  leaf  is  not  easily  observed.  You  remember  how  near  we  both  were 
to  purchasing  a  mutilated  Missal  at  a  high  price. 

"All  this,  perliaps,  you  know  already,  and,  therefore,  my  letter  may  be  of 
no  use.  I  am,  however,  desirous  to  show  you,  that  I  wish  prosperity  to  youi 
undertaking.  One  advice  more  I  will  give,  of  more  importance  than  all  the 
rest,  of  which  I,  therefore,  hope  you  will  have  still  less  need.  You  are  going 
into  a  part  of  the  world  divided,  as  it  is  said,  between  bigotry  and  atheism  : 
Buch  representations  are  always  hyperbolical,  but  there  is  certainly  enough  ot 
both  to  alarm  any  mind  solicitous  for  piety  and  truth  ;  let  not  the  contempi 
of  superstition  precipitate  you  into  infidelity,  or  the  horror  of  iufidehty  eusua^e 


452  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON.  W'® 

you  ia  superstition.     I  sincerely  wish  you  successful  and  happy,  for  I  am, 
Sir,  etc.,  "Sam.  Johnson." 


Letter  114.  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER. 

"  June  18, 1768. 

"  My  Love, — It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  find  that  you  are  so  well  satisfied 
with  what  little  things  it  has  been  in  my  power  to  send  you.  I  hope  you  will 
always  employ  me  in  any  office  that  can  conduce  to  your  convenience.  My 
health  is,  I  thaulv  God,  much  better ;  but  it  is  yet  very  weak  ;  and  very  little 
things  put  it  into  a  troublesome  state  ;  but  still  I  hope  all  will  be'well.  Pray 
for  me. 

"  My  friends  at  Lichfield  must  not  think  that  I  forget  them.  Neither  Mrs. 
Cobb,  nor  Mrs.  Adcy,  nor  Miss  Adey,  nor  Miss  Seward,  nor  Miss  Vise,  are  to 
suppose  that  I  have  lost  all  memory  of  their  kindness.  Mention  me  to  them 
when  you  see  them.  I  hear  Mr.  Vise  has  been  lately  very  much  in  danger. 
I  hope  he  is  better. 

"  When  you  write  again,  let  me  know  how  you  go  on,  and  what  company 
you  keep,  and  what  you  do  all  day.  I  love  to  think  on  you.  but  do  not  know 
when  I  shall  see  you.  Pray,  write  very  often.  I  am,  dearest,  your  humble 
servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

lu  1769,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  the  public  was  favoured  with 
nothing  of  Johnson's  composition,  either  for  himself  or  any  of  his 
friends.  His  "Meditations"  too  strongly  prove  that  he  suffered 
much  both  in  body  and  mind  ;  yet  was  he  perpetually  striving 
against  evil,  and  nobly  endeavouring  to  advance  his  intellectual  and 
devotional  improvement.  Every  generous  and  grateful  heart  must 
feel  for  the  distresses  of  so  eminent  a  benefactor  to  mankind  ;  and 
now  that  his  unhappiness  is  certainly  known,  must  respect  that 
dignity  of  character  which  prevented  him  from  complaining. 

His  Majesty  having  the  preceding  year  instituted  the  Royal 
Academy  of  Arts  in  London,  Johnson  had  now  the  honour  of  being 
appointed  Professor  in  Ancient  Literature.'  In  the  course  of  the 
year  he  wrote  some  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  passed  some  part  of  the 

'  In  which  place  he  has  been  succeeded  by  Bennet  Langton,  Esq.  When  that  truly  reli- 
gious gentleman  was  elected  to  this  honorary  Professorship,  at  the  same  time  that  Edward 
Gibbon,  Esq.,  noted  for  introducing  a  liind  of  sneering  Infidelity  into  his  historical  writings, 
was  elected  Professor  in  Ancient  History,  in  the  room  of  Dr.  Goldsmitli,  I  observed  that  it 
brought  to  my  mind,  "  Wicked  Will  Whiston  and  good  Mr.  Ditton."  I  am  now  also  [1791]  of 
that  admirable  institution,  as  Secretary  for  Foreign  Correspondence,  by  the  favour  of  tbt 
Academicians,  and  the  approbation  of  the  sovereign. 


*^"-  *>•  OXFORD — LICHFIEIJ).  453 

summer  at  Oxford,  and  at  Lichfield,  and  when  at  Oxford  he  wrote 
the  following  letter  : — • 


Letter  115.  TO  THE  REV.  MR.  THOMAS  WARTON. 

"May  81, 1760. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Many  years  ago,  when  I  us«d  to  read  in  the  library  of  your 
College,  I  promised  to  recompense  the  college  for  that  permission,  by  adding 
to  their  books  a  Baskerville's  Virgil.  I  have  now  sent  it,  and  desire  you  to 
reposit  it  on  the  shelves  in  my  name.* 

"  If  you  will  be  pleased  to  let  me  know  when  you  have  an  hour  of  leisure 
I  will  drink  tea  with  you.  I  am  engaged  for  the  afternoon,  to-morrow,  and  on 
Friday  :  all  my  mornings  are  ray  own.*     I  am,  etc., 

"Sam.  Johnson." 

Letter  116.         .  TO  MRS.  THRALE. 

"  Lichfield,  August  14,  1769. 

"  I  set  out  on  Thursoay  morning,  and  found  my  companion,  to  whom  I  was 
very  much  a  stranger,  more  agreeable  than  I  expected.  We  went  cheerfully 
forward,  and  passed  the  night  at  Coventry.  We  came  in  late,  and  went  out 
early  ;  and  therefore  I  did  not  send  for  my  cousin  Tom,  but  I  design  to  make 
him  some  amends  for  the  omission. 

"  Next  day  we  came  early  to  Lucy,  who  was,  I  believe,  glad  to  see  us.  She 
had  saved  her  best  gooseberries  upon  the  tree  for  me  ;  and  as  Steele  says,  1 . 
was  neither  too  proud  nor  too  wise  to  gather  them.  I  have  rambled  a  very 
little  inter  fontes  et  flwnina  nota,  but  I  am  not  yet  well.  They  have  cut  down 
the  trees  in  George  Lane.  Evelyn,  in  his  book  of  Forest  Trees,  tells  us  of 
wicked  men  that  cut  down  trees,  and  never  prospered  afterwards ;  yet  nothing 
has  deterred  these  audacious  aldermen  from  violating  the  Hamadryad  of 
George  Lane.  As  an  impartial  traveller,  I  must,  however,  tell  that,  in  Stow- 
street,  where  I  left  a  draw-well,  I  have  found  a  pump,  but  the  lading-well  in 
this  ill-fated  George  Lane  lies  shamefully  neglected. 

"I  am  going  to-day  or  to-morrow  to  Ashbourne;  but  I  am  at  a  loss  how  I 
shall  get  back  in  time  to  London.  Here  are  only  chance  coaches,  so  that  there 
is  no  certainty  of  a  place.  If  I  do  not  come,  let  it  not  hinder  your  journey.  I 
can  be  but  a  few  days  behind  you ;  and  I  will  follow  in  the  BrighthelmstOiio 
coach.     But  I  hope  to  come." 

1  It  has  this  inscription  in  a  blank  leaf: — "  Bwnc  librum  J).  D.  Samuel  JoTvnson  eo  quod 
hie  loci  stuiUUinterdum  vacaret"  Of  this  library,  which  is  an  old  Gothic  room,  he  waa 
very  fond.  On  my  observing  to  him  that  some  of  the  modern  libraries  of  the  University  were 
more  commodioi»«  and  pleasant  for  study,  as  being  more  spacious  and  airy,  he  replied,  "Sir, 
If  a  man  has  a  mind  to  prance,  he  must  study  at  Christ  church  and  All  Souls." — Warton. 

3  During  this  f isit  he  seldom  or  never  dined  out.  He  appeared  to  be  deeply  engaged  la 
iome  literary  y  jrlt.    Miss  Williams  was  now  with  bini  al  Oxford.— Warton. 


454  LIFE    OF   JOHNSON  *'*• 

Letter  IIY.  TO  MRS.  ASTOK 

" Biighthelmstone,  August,  26,  1T69. 

*'  Madam,— I  suppose  you  have  received  the  mill ;  the  whole  apparatus  seemed 
to  be  perfect,  except  that  there  is  wanting  a  little  tin  spout  at  the  bottom,  and 
some  ring  or  knob,  on  which  the  bag  that  catches  the  meal  is  to  be  hung. 
When  these  are  added,  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  grind  your  own  bread,  and 
treat  me  with  a  cake,  made  by  yourself,  of  meal  from  your  own  corn  of  your 
own  grinding. 

"  I  -was  glad,  madam,  to  see  you  so  well,  and  hope  your  health  will  long 
increase,  and  then  long  continue.     I  am,  madam,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

"Sam.  Johnson." 

1  came  to  London  in  the  autumn  ;  and  having  informed  him  that 
I  was  going  to  be  married  in  a  few  months,  I  wished  to  have  as 
much  of  his  conversation  as  I  could  before  engaging  in  a  state  ®f 
life  which  would  probably  keep  me  more  in  Scotland,  and  prevent 
me  seeing  him  so  often  as  when  I  was  a  single  man  ;  but  I  found 
he  was  at  Brighthelmstoue  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale.  I  was  very 
sorry  that  I  had  not  his  company  with  me  at  the  Jubilee,  in  honour 
of  Shakspeare,  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  the  great  poet's  native 
town.*  Johnson's  connection  both  with  Shakspeare  and  Garrick 
founded  a  double  claim  to  his  presence  ;  and  it  would  have  been 
highly  gratifying  to  Mr.  Garrick.  Upon  this  occasion  I  particularly 
lamented  that  he  had  not  that  warmth  of  friendship  for  his  brilliant 
pupil,  which  we  may  suppose  would  have  had  a  benignant  effect  on 
both.  When  almost  every  man  of  eminence  in  the  literary  world 
was  happy  to  partake  in  this  festival  of  genius,  the  absence  of 
Johnson  could  not  but  be  wondered  at  and  regretted.  The  only 
trace  of  him  there,  was  in  the  whimsical  advenisement  of  a  haber- 
dasher, who  sold  Shaksperian  ribands  of  various  dyes  ;  and,  by  way 
of  illustrating  their  appropriation  to  the  bard,  introduced  a  line  from 
the  celebrated  Prologue,  at  the  opening  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre 

"  Each  change  of  many-colour'' d  life  he  drew." 

From  Brighthelrastone  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  me  the  following  letter, 

'  Mr.  Boswell,  on  this  occasion,  justified  Johnson's  foresight  and  prudence,  in  advising  bim 
to  "  clear  his  head  of  Corsica  :"  unlucliily,  tlie  advice  had  nft^tfect,  for  Boswell  made  a  fool 
of  himself  at  the  Jubilee  by  sundry  enthusiastic  freaks ;  amongst  others,  lest  he  should  not  ba 
sufficiently  distinguished,  he  wore  the  words  Corsica  Boswell  in  large  letters  round  \m 
kat.— C.  1831. 


^'^*'-^'  LETTER  TO    BOSWELL.  itt 

which  they  who  may  think  that  I  ought  to  have  suppressed,  must 
have  less  ardent  feelings  than  I  have  always  avowed.' 

Letter  118.  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

"  Brighthelmstone,  Sept.  9, 1760. 

"Dear  Sir, —  Why  do  you  charge  me  with  unkindness  ?  I  have  omitted 
nothing  that  could  do  you  good,  or  give  you  pleasure,  unless  it  be  that  I  have 
forborne  to  tell  you  my  opinion  of  your  '  Account  of  Corsica.'  I  believe  iny 
opinion,  if  you  think  well  of  my  judgment,  might  have  given  you  pleasure ; 
but  when  it  is  considered  how  much  vanity  is  excited  by  praise,  I  am  not  sure 
that  it  would  have  done  you  good.  Tour  History  is  like  other  histories,  but 
your  Journal  is,  in  a  very  high  degree,  curious  and  delightful.  There  is 
between  the  History  and  the  Journal  that  difference  which  there  will  always  be 
found  between  notions  borrowed  from  without,  and  notions  generated  within. 
Your  history  was  copied  from  books;  your  journal  rose  out  of  your  own  ex- 
perience and  observation.  You  express  images  which  operated  strongly  upon 
yourself,  and  you  have  impressed  them  with  grejit  force  upon  your  readers.  I 
know  not  whether  I  could  name  any  narrative  by  which  curiosity  is  better 
excited,  or  better  gratified. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  are  going  to  be  married;  and  as  I  wish  you  well  iu 
things  of  less  importance,  wish  you  well  with  proportionate  ardour  in  this  crisis 
of  your  life.  What  I  can  contribute  to  your  happiness,  I  should  be  very  un- 
willing  to  withhold ;  for  I  have  always  loved  and  valued  you,  and  shall  love 
and  value  you  still  more,  as  you  become  more  regular  and  useful :  effects  which 
a  happy  marriage  will  hardly  fail  to  produce. 

"  I  do  not  find  that  I  am  likely  to  come  back  very  soon  from  this  place.  I 
shall,  perhaps,  stay  a  fortnight  longer;  and  a  fortnight  is  a  long  time  to  a 
lover  absent  from  his  mistress.  Would  a  fortnight  ever  have  an  end  ?  I  am, 
dear.  Sir,  your  most  aflfectionate  humble  servant,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

>  In  the  Preface  to  my  Account  of  Corsica,  published  in  176S,  I  thus  express  myself : 

"  He  who  publishes  a  book,  affecting  not  to  be  an  author,  and  professing  an  indifference  for 
literary  fame,  may  possibly  impose  upon  many  people  such  an  idea  of  his  consequence  as  b« 
wishes  may  be  received.  For  my  part,  I  should  be  proud  to  be  known  as  an  author,  and  I 
have  an  ardent  ambition  for  literary  fame  ;  for,  of  all  possessions,  I  should  imagine  literary 
fame  to  be  the  most  valuable.  A  man  who  has  been  able  to  furnish  a  book,  which  has  beeu 
approved  by  the  world,  has  established  himself  as  a  respectable  character  In  distant  society, 
without  any  danger  of  having  that  character  lessentd  by  the  observation  of  his  wealaesses. 
To  preserve  an  uniform  dignity  among  those  who  see  us  every  day,  is  hardly  possible  ;  and 
to  aim  at  it,  must  put  us  under  the  fetters  of  perpetual  restraint.  The  author  of  an  approved 
book  may  allow  his  natural  disposition  an  easy  play,  and  yet  indulge  the  pride  of  superior 
genius,  when  he  considers  that  by  those  who  know  him  only  as  an  author,  he  never  ceases  to 
be  respected.  Such  an  author,  when  in  his  hours  of  gloom  and  discontent,  may  have  the  cou- 
solation  to  think,  that  his  writings  are,  at  that  very  time,  giving  pleasure  to  numbers ;  and 
8uch  an  author  may  cherish  the  hope  of  being  remembered  after  death,  which  has  been  a 
grekt  object  to  the  noblest  minds  in  all  ages." 


APPENDIX. 


No.  L 

For  the  convenience  of  the  reader,  No.  I.  was  introduced  as  a  note 
page  S4. 


No.  II. 


AX  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  EARLY  LIFE  OF  DR.  JOHNSON,  WRITTEN 
BY  HIMSELF. 

[From  a  little  volume  published  in  1S05,  and  now  become  scarce,  entitled  "  An  Account  of 
the  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  from  his  Birth  to  his  Eleventh  Year,  written  by  himself:  to 
which  are  added.  Original  Letters  to  Dr.  Johnson,  by  Miss  Hill  Boothby  :  from  the  MSS.  pre- 
served by  the  Doctor,  and  now  in  possession  of  Richard  Wright,  Surgeon,  of  Lichfield." 
"  This  volume  (says  the  Editor)  was  among  that  mass  of  papers  which  were  ordered  to  be 
committed  to  the  tiames  a  few  days  before  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  thirty-two  pages  of  which 
were  torn  out  by  himself,  and  destroyed.  Francis  Barber,  his  black  servant,  unwilling  that 
all  the  MSS.  of  his  illustrious  master  should  be  utterly  lost,  preserved  these  relics  from  the 
flames.    By  purchase  they  came  into  possession  of  the  Editor."] 

AXXALS.— I.   lYOQ-lO. 

Sept.  7,*  1709,  I  was  born  at  Lichfield.  My  mother  had  a  very  difficult  and 
dangerous  labour,  and  was  assisted  by  George  Hector,  a  man  mid-wife  of  great 
reputation.  I  was  born  alraost.dead,^  and  could  not  cry  for  some  time.  Wheu 
he  had  me  in  his  arms,  he  said,  "  Here  is  a  brave  boy." 

In  a  few  weeks  an  inflammation  was  discovered  on  my  buttock,  which  was, 
at  first,  I  think,  taken  for  a  burn ;  but  soon  appeared  to  be  a  natural  disorder. 
It  swelled,  broke,  and  healed. 

My  father  being  that  year  Sheriff  of  Lichfield,  and  to  ride  the  circuit  of  the 

•  18  of  the  present  style: — Orig. 

'  To  have  been  born  almost  dead  has  been  related  of  many  etnlnent  men  ;  amongst  otbc-ra 
cf  Addison,  Lord  Lyttelton,  and  Voltaire. — Croeer. 

voi,.  I.  20  ^ 


468  APPENDIX   II, 

County  next  day,  which  was  a  ceremony  then  performed  with  great  pomp;  he 
was  asked  by  my  mother,  "  Whom  he  would  invite  to  the  Riding  ?"  and 
answered,  "  All  the  town  now."  He  feasted  the  citizens  with  uncommon  mag- 
nificence, and  was  the  last  but  one  that  maintained  the  splendour  of  the 
Hiding. 

I  was,  by  my  father's  persuasion,  put  to  one  Marclew,  commonly  called 
Bellison,'  the  servant,  or  wife  of  a  servant  of  my  father,  to  be  nursed  in  George 
Lane,  where  I  used  to  call  when  I  was  a  bigger  boy,  and  eat  fruit  in  the  gar- 
den, which  was  full  of  trees.  Here  it  was  discovered  that  my  eyes  were  bad; 
and  an  issue  was  cut  in  my  left  arm,''  of  which  I  took  no  great  notice,  as  I 
think  my  mother  has  told  me,  having  my  little  hand  in  a  custard. 

It  is  observable,  that,  having  been  told  of  this  operation,  I  always  imagined 
that  I  remembered  it,  but  I  laid  the  scene  in  the  wrong  house.  Such  coufu- 
dions  of  memory  I  suspect  to  be  common. 

My  mother  visited  me  every  day,  and  used  to  go  different  ways,  that  her 
assiduity  might  not  expose  her  to  ridicule ;  and  often  left  her  fan  or  glove 
behind  her,  that  she  might  have  a  pretence  to  come  back  unexpected  ;  but  she 
never  discovered  any  token  of  neglect.  Dr.  Swinfen  ^  told  me,  that  the  scrofu- 
lous sores  which  afflicted  me  proceeded  from  the  bad  humours  of  the  nurse, 
whose  son  had  the  same  distemper,  and  was  likewise  short-sighted,  but 
both  in  a  less  degree.  My  mother  thought  my  diseases  derived  from  her 
family.'* 

In  ten  weeks  I  was  taken  home,  a  poor,  diseased  infant,  almost  blind. 

I  remember  my  aunt  Nath.  Ford  told  me,  when  I  was  about  .  .  .  years  old, 
that  she  would  not  have  picked  such  a  poor  creature  up  in  the  street. 

In  .  .  .  67,  when  I  was  at  Lichfield,  I  went  to  look  for  my  nurse's  house ; 
and,  inquiring  somewhat  obscurely,  was  told  "  this  is  the  house  in  which  you 
were  nursed."  I  saw  my  nurse's  son,  to  whose  milk  I  succeeded,  reading  a 
large  Bible,  which  my  nurse  had  bought,  as  I  was  then  told,  some  time  before 
her  death. 

Dr.  Swinfen  used  to  say,  that  he  never  knew  any  child  reared  with  so  much 
difl&culty. 

II.   1*710-11. 
In  the  st'coud  year  I  knew  not  what  happened  to  me.     I  believe  it  was  then 

1  The  name  of  Marklew,  alias  Bellison,  ia  yet  common  in  Lichfield,  and  is  dsually  so  dit 
tinguished — II.  Wright. 

^  How  long  this  issue  was  continued  I  do  not  remember.  I  believe  it  was  suffered  to  dry 
when  I  was  about  six  years  0\'\.—Or-ig. 

2  Samuel  Swinfen,  who  took  a  degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine  from  Pembroke  College 
In  1712  —Hall. 

■•  His  mother  and  Dr.  Swinfen  were  both  perhaps  wrong  in  their  conjecture  as  to  the  origla 
of  the  disease  ;  he  more  probably  inherited  it  from  his  father,  with  the  morbid  melanchollf 
which  is  so  commonly  an  attendant  on  scrofulous  habits. — Choker.  * 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL    FRAGMENT.  459 

that  my  mother  carried  me  to  Trystil,'  to  consult  Dr.  Atvvooil,  an  oculist  of 
Worcester.  My  father  and  Mrs.  Harriots,  I  think,  never  had  much  kindness 
for  each  other.  She  was  my  mother's  relation  ;  and  he  had  none  so  hif^h  to 
whom  he  could  send  any  of  lus  family.  He  saw  her  seldom  himself,  and  will 
ingly  disgusted  her,  by  sending  his  horses  from  home  on  Sunday  ;  which  she 
considered,  and  with  reason,  as  a  breach  of  duty.  My  fiither  had  much  vanity, 
which  his  adversity  hindered  from  being  fully  exerted.  I  remember,  that, 
mentioning  her  legacy  in  the  humility  of  distress,  he  called  her  our  good  Cousin 
Harriots.  My  mother  had  no  value  for  his  relations;  those,  indeed,  whom  we 
knew  of,  wero  much  lower  than  hers.  This  contempt  began,  I  know  not  on 
which  side,  very  early  :  but,  as  my  father  was  little  at  home,  it  had  not  much 
eflect. 

My  father  and  mother  had  not  much  happiness  from  each  other.  They  sel- 
dom conversed ;  for  my  father  could  not  bear  to  talk  of  his  affairs ;  and  my 
mother,  being  unacquainted  with  books,  cared  not  to  talk  of  anything  else. 
Had  my  mother  been  more  literate,  they  had  been  better  companions.  She 
might  have  sometimes  introduced  her  unwelcome  topic  with  more  success,  if 
she  could  have  diversified  her  conversation.  Of  business  she  had  no  distinct 
conception  ;  and,  therefore,  her  discourse  was  composed  only  of  complaint, 
fear,  and  suspicion.  Neither  of  them  ever  tried  to  calculate  the  profits  of 
trade,  or  the  expenses  of  living.  My  mother  concluded  that  we  were  poor, 
because  we  lost  by  some  of  our  trades ;  but  the  truth  was,  that  my  fatlier, 
having  in  the  early  part  of  his  life  contracted  debts,  never  had  trade  sufficient 
to  enable  him  to  pay  them,  and  maintain  his  family ;  he  got  something,  but 
not  enough. 

It  was  not  till  about  1768,  that  I  thought  to  calculate  the  returns  of  my 
father's  trade,  and  by  that  estimate  his  probable  profits.  This,  I  believe,  mj 
parents  never  did. 

lu.   1711-12. 

This  year,  in  Lent — 12.  I  was  taken  to  London,  to  be  touched  for  the  evil 
by  Queen  Anne.  My  mother  was  at  Nicholson's,  the  famous  bookseller,  in 
Little  Britain."  I  always  retained  some  memory  of  this  journey,  though  I  was 
then  but  thirty  months  old.  I  remembered  a  little  dark  room  behind  the 
kitchen,  where  the  jack-weight  fell  through  a  hole  in  the  floor,  into  which  I 
once  slipped  my  leg.'' 

I  remember  a  boy  crying  at  the  palace  when  I  went  to  be  touched.     Being 

'  Near  Wolverliampton. — K.  Wright. 

^  My  mother,  tlien  with  child,  concealt'cl  her  pregnancy,  that  she  might  not  be  liindered from 
the  journey  — Ong 

*  I  seem  to  i-emember,  that  I  phiyed  with  a  string  and  a  bell,  which  my  cousin  Isaac  John, 
wn  gave  me;  and  that  there  was  a  cat  with  a  white  collar,  and  a  dog,  called  Cbops,  that 
eaiK'd  over  a  stick  ;  but  I  know  not  ■.vliethcr  I  remember  the  thing,  or  tlie  talk  of  it.  -UHg. 


<60  APPENDIX  ir. 

askea,  "  on  which  side  of  the  shop  was  the  counter  ?"  I  answered,  "  on  the 
left  from  the  entrance,"  many  years  after,  and  spoke,  not  by  guess,  but  by 
memory.  We  went  in  the  stage-coach  and  returned  in  the  wagon,  as  my 
mother  said,  because  my  cough  was  violent.  The  hope  of  saving  a  few  shil- 
lings was  no  slight  motive;  for  she,  not  having  been  aceustomed  to  money, 
was  afraid  of  such  expenses  as  now  seem  very  small.  She  sewed  two  guineas 
in  her  petticoat,  lest  she  should  be  robbed. 

We  were  troublesome  to  the  passengers  ;  but  to  suffer  such  inconveniences 
in  the  stage-coach  was  common  in  these  days  to  persons  in  much  higher  rank»* 
She  bought  me  a  small  silver  cup  and  spoon,  marked  SAM.  I.,  lest,  if  they  had 
been  marked  S.  I.,  which  was  her  name,  they  should,  upon  her  death,  have 
been  taken  from  me.  She  bought  me  a  speckled  linen  frock,  which  I  knew 
afterwards  by  the  name  of  my  London  frock.  The  cup  was  one  of  the  last 
pieces  of  plate  which  dear  Tetty  "•'  sold  in  our  distress.  I  have  now  the  spoon. 
She  bought  at  the  same  time  two  tea-spoons,  and  till  my  manhood  she  had  no 
more. 

My  father  considered  tea  as  very  expensive,  and  discouraged  my  mother 
from  keeping  company  with  the  neighbours,  and  from  paying  visits  or  receiv- 
ing them.  She  Hved  to  say,  many  years  after,  that  if  the  time  were  to  pass 
again,  she  would  not  comply  with  such  unsocial  injunctions.^ 

I  suppose  that  in  this  year  I  was  first  informed  of  a  future  state.  I  remember, 
that  being  in  bed  with  my  mother  one  morning,  I  was  told  by  her  of  the  two 
places  to  which  the  inhabitants  of  this  world  were  received  after  death :  one, 
a  fine  place  filled  with  happiness,  called  Heaven  ;  the  other,  a  sad  place,  called 
Hell.  That  this  account  much  affected  my  imagination,  I  do  not  remember. 
When  I  was  risen,  my  mother  bade  me  repeat  what  she  had  told  me  to  Thomas 
Jackson.  When  I  told  this  afterwards  to  my  mother,  she  seemed  to  wonder 
that  she  should  begin  such  talk  so  late  as  that  the  first  time  could  be  remem- 
bered. 

l^Here  (here  is  a  chasin  of  thirty-eight  pages  in  the  manuscript.^ examin- 
ation. We  always  considered  it  as  a  day  of  ease  ;  for  we  made  no  prepara- 
tion, and  indeed  were  asked  commonly  such  questions  as  we  had  been  asked 
often  before,  and  could  regularly  answer.  But  I  believe  it  was  of  use  at 
Grst. 

On  Thursday  night  a  small  portion  of  Ji)sop  was  learned  by  heart,  and  on 
Friday  morning  the  lessons  in  ^sop  were  repeated ;  I  believe,  not  those  in 

■  I  was  sick ;  one  woman  fondled  me  :  the  other  was  disgusted. — Orig. 

2  His  wife,  whom  he  called  by  this  familiar  contraction  of  Elizabeth. — Croker. 

3  AVhen  Dr.  Johnson,  at  an  advanced  age,  recorded  all  these  minute  circumstances,  he  con- 
templated, we  are  told,  writing  the  history  of  his  own  life,  and  probably  intended  to  develope, 
from  his  own  infant  recollections,  the  growth  and  powers  of  the  faculty  of  memory,  which  he 
possessed  in  so  remarkable  a  degree.  From  the  little  details  of  his  domestic  history  he  pei- 
haps  meant  also  to  trace  the  progressive  change  in  the  habits  of  the  middle  classes  of  society, 
— -Cbokjui. 


AtJTOBIOGRAPHiCAL    FRAGMENT.  461 

Helvicus.  On  Friday  afternoon  we  learned  Quce  Genus ;  I  suppose  that  other 
boys  miglit  say  their  repetition,  but  of  this  I  have  now  no  distinct  remembrance. 
To  learn  Quce  Genus  was  to  me  always  pleasing  ;  and  As  i?i  Prcesenti  was,  I 
know  not  why,  always  disgusting. 

When  we  learned  our  Accidence  we  had  no  parts,  but,  I  think,  two  lessons. 
The  boys  that  came  to  school  untaught  read  the  Accidence  twice  through  be- 
fore they  learned  it  by  heart. 

When  we  learned  Propria  quce  Maribus,  our  parts  were  in  the  Accidence ; 
when  we  learned  As  in  Prcesenti,  our  parts  were  in  the  Accidence  and  Pro- 
pria qum  Maribus  ;  when  we  learned  Syntaxis,  in  the  former  three.  Propria 
quce  Maribus  I  could  repeat  without  any  effort  of  recollection.  I  used  to  re- 
peat it  to  niy  mother  and  Tom  Johnson  ;  and  remember,  that  I  once  went  as 
far  as  the  middle  of  the  paragraph,  "  Mascula  dicuntur  monosyllaba,"  in  a 
dream. 

On  Saturday,  as  on  Thursday,  we  were  examined.  We  were  sometimes,  on 
one  of  those  days,  asked  our  Catechism,'  but  with  no  regularity  or  constancy. 

The  progress  of  examination  was  this.  When  we  learned  Propria  quce 
Maribus,  we  were  examined  in  the  Accidence ;  particularly  we  formed  Verbs, 
that  is,  went  through  the  same  person,  in  all  the  Moods  and  Tenses.  This  was 
very  difficult  to  me  ;  and  I  was  once  very  anxious  about  the  next  day,  when 
this  exercise  was  to  be  performed,  in  which  I  had  failed  till  I  was  discouraged. 
My  mother  encouraged  me,  and  I  proceeded  better  when  I  told  her  of  my 
good  escape,  "  We  often,"  said  she,  dear  mother !  "  come  oif  best,  when  we 
are  most  afraid."  She  told  me,  that,  once  when  she  asked  me  about  forming 
verbs,  I  said,  "  I  did  not  form  them  in  an  ugly  shape."  "  You  could  not," 
said  she,  "  speak  plain  ;  and  I  was  proud  that  I  had  a  boy  who  was  forming 
verbs."  These  little  memorials  soothe  my  mind.  Of  the  parts  of  Corderius  or 
./Esop,  which  we  learnffd  to  repeat,  I  have  not  the  least  recollection,  except  of 
a  passage  in-one  of  the  Morals,  where  it  is  said  of  some  man,  that,  wheD 
he  hated  another,  he  made  him  rich;  this  I  repeated  emphatically  in  my 
mother's  hearing,  who  could  never  conceive  that  riches  could  bring  any  evil. 
She  remarked  it,  as  I  expected. 

I  had  the  curiosity,  two  or  three  years  ago,  to  look  over  Garretson's  Exer- 
cises, Willymot's  Particles,  and  Walker's  Exercises ;  and  found  very  few  sen- 
tences that  I  should  have  recollected  if  I  had  found  them  in  any  other  books. 
That  which  is  read  without  pleasure  is  not  often  recollected  nor  infixed  by  con- 
versation, and  therefore  in  a  great  measure  drops  from  the  memory.  Thus  it 
happens  that  those  who  are  taken  early  from  school,  commonly  lose  all  that 
they  had  learned. 

When  we  learned  As  in  Prcesenti,  we  parsed  Propria  quce  Maribv.-i  by 
Hoole's  Terminations ;  and,  when  we  learned  Syntaxis,  we  parsed  As  in  Prce- 
ienti  :  and  afterwards  Quce  Genus,  by  the  same  book  ;  sometimes,  as  I  remem- 

*  G.  Hector  never  had  been  taught  his  Catechism. — Orig, 


462  APPENDIX   It. 

ber,  proceedir.g  ir  order  of  the  rules,  and  sometimes  particularly,  in  As  in 
Prce.ienti,  taking  words  as  they  occurred  in  the  Index. 

The  whole  week  before  we  broke  up,  and  the  part  of  the  week  in  which  we 
broke  up,  were  spent  wholly,  I  know  not  why,  in  examination ;  and  were 
therefore  easy  to  both  us  and  the  master.  The  two  nights  before  the  vaca- 
tion were  free  from  exercise. 

This  was  the  course  of  the  school,  which  I  remember  with  pleasure ;  for  I 
was  indulged  and  caressed  by  my  master,  and,  I  think,  really  excelled  the 
rest. 

I  was  with  Hawkins  but  two  years,  and  perhaps  four  months.  The  time, 
till  I  had  computed  it,  appeared  much  longer  by  the  multitude  of  novelties 
which  it  supplied,  and  of  incidents,  then  in  my  thoughts  important,  it  pro- 
duced. Perhaps  it  is  not  possible  that  any  other  period  can  make  the  same 
impression  on  the  memory. 

s.  1719. 

In  the  spring  of  1719,  our  class  consisting  of  eleven,  the  number  was  alway.s 
fixed  in  my  memory,  but  one  of  the  names  I  have  forgotten,  was  removed  to 
the  upper  school,  and  put  under  Holbrook,  a  peevish  and  ill-tempered  man. 
We  were  removed  sooner  than  had  been  the  custom;  for  the  head-master, 
intent  upon  his  boarders,  left  the  town-boys  long  in  the  lower  school.  Our 
removal  was  caused  by  a  reproof  from  the  Town-cierk ;  and  Hawkins  com« 
plained  that  he  had  lost  half  his  profit.  At  this  removal  I  cried.  The  rest 
were  indifferent.  My  exercise  in  Garretson  was  somewhere  about  the  Gerunds, 
Our  places  in  ^sop  and  Helvicus  I  have  totally  forgotten. 

At  Whitsuntide  Mrs.  Longworth  brought  me  a  "  Hermes  Garretsoni,"  of 
which  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  could  make  much  use.  It  was  afterwardjS 
lost,  or  stolen  at  school.  My  exercise  was  then  in  the  end  of  the  Syntax. 
Hermes  furnished  me  with  the  word  inliciturus,  which  I  did  not  understand, 
but  used  it. 

This  task  was  very  troublesome  to  me  ;  I  made  all  the  twenty-five  exercises, 
others  made  but  sixteen.  I  never  shewed  all  mine  ;  five  lay  long  after  in  a 
drawer  in  the  shop.  I  made  an  exercise  in  a  little  time,  and  shewed  it  my 
mother ;  but  the  task  being  long  upon  me,  she  said,  "  Though  you  could  make 
an  exercise  in  so  short  a  time,  I  thought  you  would  find  it  difficult  to  make 
them  all  as  soon  as  you  should." 

This  Whitsuntide,  I  and  my  brother  were  sent  to  pass  some  time  at  Birming- 
ham ;  I  believe,  a  fortnight.  Why  such  boys  were  sent  to  trouble  other  houses, 
I  cannot  tell.  My  mother  had  some  opinion  that  much  improvement  was  to 
be  had  by  changing  the  mode  of  life.  My  uncle  Harrison  was  a  widower;  and 
his  house  was  kept  by  Sally  Ford,  a  young  woman  of  such  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, that  I  used  to  say  she  had  no  fault.  We  lived  most  at  uncle  Ford's,  being 
much  caressed  by  my  aunt,  i  good-natured,  coarse  woman,  easy  of  i  onversa 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL    FRAGMENT.  463 

but  willing  to  find  something  to  censure  in  the  absent.  M_v  uncle  Harrison  did 
not  much  like  us,  nor  did  we  like  him.  He  was  a  very  mean  and  vulgar  man, 
drunk  every  night,  but  drunk  with  little  drink,  very  peevish,  very  proud,  verj 
ostentatious,  but,  luckily,  not  rich.  At  my  aunt  Ford's  I  eat  so  niucli  of  a 
boiled  leg  of  mutton,^  that  she  used  to  talk  of  it.  My  mother,  who  had  lived 
in  a  narrow  sphere,  and  was  then  aifected  by  little  things,  told  me  seriously 
that  it  would  hardly  ever  be  forgotten.  Her  raiiid,  I  think,  was  afterwards 
much  enlarged,  or  greater  evils  wore  out  the  care  of  less. 

I  stayed  after  the  vacation  was  over  some  days ;  and  remember,  when  1 
wrote  home,  that  I  desired  the  horses  to  come  on  Thursday  of  the  first  school 
week  ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  they  should  be  welcome  to  go.  I  was  much 
pleased  with  a  rattle  to  my  whip,  and  wrote  of  it  to  my  mother. 

When  my  father  came  to  fetch  us  home,  he  told  the  ostler,  that  he  had 
twelve  miles  home,  and  two  boys  under  his  care.  This  offended  me.  He  had 
then  a  watch,''  which  he  returned  when  he  was  to  pay  for  it. 

In  making,  I  think,  the  first  exercise  under  Holbrook,  I  perceived  the  power 
of  continuity  of  attention,  of  application  not  suffered  to  wander  or  to  pause. 
I  wa.s  writing  at  the  kitchen  windows,  as  I  thought,  alone,  and  turning  my 
head  saw  Sally  dancing.  I  went  on  with»it  notice,  and  had  finished  almost 
without  perceiving  that  any  time  had  elapsed.  This,close  attention  I  have 
seldom  in  ray  whole  life  obtained. 

In  the  upper-school,  I  first  began  to  point  my  exercises,  which  we  made 
noon's  business.  Of  the  method  I  have  not  so  distinct  a  remembrance  as  of 
the  foregoing  system.  On  Thursday  morning  we  had  a  lesson,  as  on  other 
mornings.  On  Thursday  afternoon,  and  on  Saturday  morning,  we  commonly 
made  examples  to  the  Syntax. 

"We  were  soon  raised  from  Jilsop  to  Phaedrus,  and  then  said  our  repetition 
on  Friday  afternoon  to  Hunter.  I  remember  the  fable  of  the  wolf  and  lamb, 
to  my  draught — that  I  may  drink.  At  what  time  we  began  Phsedrns,  I  know 
not.  It  was  the  only  book  which  we  learned  to  the  end.  In  the  latter  part 
thirty  lines  were  expected  for  a  lesson.  What  reconciles  masters  to  long  les- 
sons is  the  pleasure  of  tasking. 

Helvicus  was  very  difficult :  the  dialogue  Vesiitus,  Hawkins  directed  us  to 
omit,  as  being  one  of  the  hardest  in  the  book.  As  I  remember,  there  was 
another  upon  food,  and  another  upon  fruits,  which  we  began,  and  were  ordered 
not  to  pursue.  In  the  dialogue  of  Fruits,  we  perceived  that  Holbrook  did  not 
know  the  meaning  of  Uvce  Crispce.     That  lesson  gave  us  great  trouble.     I  ob- 

*  All  these  trifles — since  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  height  of  his  fame  (for  the  Account  must  have 
been  written  subsequent  to  1768)  thouglit  them  worth  recording — appear  worth  quoting.  Hia 
voracious  love  of  a  leg  of  mutton  adhered  to  him  through  life;  and  the  prophecy  of  his 
mother,  that  it  never  wauld  he  forgotten,  is  realised  in  a  way  that  good  woman  could  not 
nave  anticipated  — Crokeb. 

*  The  convenience  of  a  watch,  now  so  general,  Dr.  Johnson  himself,  as  Sir  J.  Hawkins 
r«pnrt«  (p.  460),  did  not  possess  till  1768. — Crokeb, 


464  APPENDIX   III. 

served  that  we  learned  Helvictus  a  long  time  with  very  little  progress.  We 
learned  it  in  ihi  afternoon  on  Monday  and  Wednesday. 

Gladiolus  Scriptorius. — A  little  lapse,  we  quitted  it.  I  got  an  English 
Erasmus. 

In  Phaedrus  we  tried  to  use  the  interpretation,  but  never  attempted  the 
notes.     Nor  do  I  remember  that  the  interpretation  helped  us. 

In  Phffidrus  we  were  sent  up  twice  to  the  upper  master  to  be  punished. 
The  second  time  we  complained  that  we  could  not  get  the  passage.  Being 
told  that  we  should  asli,  we  informed  him  that  we  had  asked,  and  that  the 
Hasistaut  ^\  ould  not  tell  us. 


NO.   III. 
THE    CLUB. 

The  following  complete  list  of  the  Club,  (referred  to  in  p.  381),  with 
the  dates  of  the  elections  of  all  the  members,  and  of  the  deaths 
of  those  deceased,  from  its  foundation  to  the  present  time,  and  the 
observations  prefixed  and  annexed,  have  been  obligingly  furnished 
by  Mr.  Hatchett,  the  present  treasurer. 

"  The  Club  was  founded  in  l'i'G4,  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson,  and  for  some  years  met  on  Monday  evenings.  In  1772,  the  day  of 
meeting  was  changed  to  Friday  ;  and  about  that  time,  instead  of  supping,  they 
agreed  to  dine  together  once  in  every  fortnight,  during  the  sitting  of  par- 
liament. 

"  In  1773,  the  Club,  which,  soon  after  its  foundation,  consisted  of  twelve 
members,  was  enlarged  to  twenty;  March  11,  1777,  to  twenty-six;  November 
27,  1778,  to  thirty;  May  9,  1780,  to  thirty-five;  and  it  was  then  resolved  that 
it  never  should  exceed  forty. 

"  It  met  originally  at  the  Turk's  Head,  in  Gerrard  Street,  and  continued  to 
meet  there  till  1783,  when  their  landlord  died,  and  the  house  was  soon  after 
wards  shut  up.  They  then  removed  to  Prince's,  in  Sackville  Street;  and  on 
his  house  being  soon  afterwards  shut  up,  they  removed  to  Baxter's,  which 
afterwards  became  Thomas's,  in  Dover  Street.  In  January,  1792,  they  removed 
to  Parsloe's,  in  St.  James's  Street ;  and,  on  February  26,  1799,  to  the  Thatched 
House  in  the  same  street. 

"  From  thj  original  foundation  to  this  time,  the  total  number  of  members  is 
one  hundred  and  eleven.     Bsto  perpetua.  C.  H. 

"Pelle  Vue  House,  Chelsea,  March  10, 1836, 


LIST    OF   THE    CLUB. 


465 


Original. 
1.-1764   . 


8.— 
4.— 
6.— 
6.— 
T.— 
8.— 
9.— 


Elected. 
10.— 1T64   . 
11.— 1765    . 
12.-1766   . 
18.— 1768,  Mar. 
14.— 1773,  Mar. 
15.-1773,  Mar. 
16.— 1773,  Apr.  2 
17.— 1778   . 
18.— 17T3,  Apr.  80 
19.— 1774,  Feb.. 
20.—    .      Feb. 
21.—    .      Feb. 
22.—    .      Mar.  4 
28.—    .      . 
24.— 1775,  Dec. 
25.—    .      . 
26.-1777,  Jan. 
27.—    .      Mar. 


29.— 


30.—    .      .       . 
81.— 1T78,  Dec. 
82.—    .      . 
33.—    ,      . 


85.-1780, 
36.- 1782, 
87.—    . 
88.—    . 

39—  . 

40-  . 
41.— 1784, 
42.-    . 
43.—    . 
44.—    . 
45.-1786, 
46.— 1788, 
47  —1792, 
4b.—    . 
49.—    . 
60-1791, 


Nov. 
Jan.  22 
Feb.  5 
Mar.  5 
Apr.  2 
Apr.  16 
Feb.  10, 
Feb. 
Feb.  17 
Dec.  23 
May  9 
Dec.  22 
Mar.  27 
May  8 
May  22 
Mar.  18 


Members.  Died. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds         .....  Feb.  23,  1792. 

Dr.  Samuel  Johnson Dec.  13,  1784. 

Rt.  Hon.  Edmund  Burke July  9,  1797. 

Christopher  Nugent,  M.D Nov.  12,  1775. 

Bennet  Langton,  Esq Dec.  18,  1801. 

Topham  Beauclerk,  Esq Mar.  11,  1780. 

Oliver  Goldsmith,  M.D Apr.  4,  1774. 

Anthony  Chamier,  Esq Oct.  12,  1780. 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  who  soon  withdrew    .        .  May  21,  1789. 

Members.  Died. 

Samuel  Dyer,  Esq Sept.  14,  1772. 

Dr.  Thomas  Percy,  Bishop  of  Dromore     .        .  Sept.  30,  ISll. 

Sir  Robert  Chambers May  9,  1803. 

George  Colman,  Esq. Aug.  14,  1794. 

Earl  of  Charlemont Aug.  4,  1794. 

David  Garrick,  Esq Jan.  20,  1779. 

Sir  William  Jones      ......  Apr.  17,  1794. 

Agmondesham  Vesey,  Esq Aug.  11,  1785. 

James  Boswell,  Esq. May  19,  1795, 

Rt.  Hon.  Charles  James  Fox     ....  Sept.  13,  1806. 

Sir  Charles  Bunbury,  Bart Mar  31,  1S21 

Dr.  George  Fordyce May  27,  1802 

George  Steevens,  Esq >.  Jan.  22,  1800. 

Edward  Gibbon,  Esq Jan.  26,  1794 

Adam  Smith,  Esq July  17,  1790. 

Dr.  Thomas  Bernard,  Bishop  of  Limerick        .  July  7,  1806. 

Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Warton Feb.  23  ISiiO. 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  Esq.        .        .        .  July  7,  1816. 

Earl  of  Upper  Ossory Feb.  1,  1S18 

Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Richard  Marlay,  Bishop  of  Water- 
ford      July  2,  1802 

John  Dunning,  Lord  Ashburton        .        .        .  Aug.  28,  178-3. 

Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  P.R.S.    .        .        ,  June  19,  1S2Q 

Rt.  Hon.  William  Windham      ....  June  4  1810 
Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Wm.  Scott,  Lord  Stowell      . 

The  Earl  Spencer Nov.  10,  1834 

Dr.  J.  Shipley,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph  .        .  Dec.  9,  1788, 

Lord  Eliot Feb.  17,  1804. 

Edmond  Malone,  Esq May  25,  1812. 

Rev.  Thomas  Warton        ...  .  May  21,  1790 

The  Earl  of  Lucan Mar.  29,  1799. 

Richard  Burke,  Esq Aug.  2  1794. 

Sir  William  Hamilton Apr.  6,  18(J3. 

Viscount  Palmerston Apr.  16,  1S02. 

Charles  Burney,  Mus.  D Apr.  12,  1814. 

Richard  Warren,  M.D June  22,  1797. 

The  Earl  of  Macartney Mar.  31,  1806. 

John  Co\irtenay,  Esq Mar.  24,  1816. 

Dr.  J.  Hinchliffe,  Bishop  of  Peterborough        .  Jan.  11,  1794. 

Duke  of  Leeds Jan.  31,  1799 

Dr.  John  Douglas,  Bishop  of  Salisbury     .        .  May  19,  1SC7 

Sir  Charles  Blagden Mar.  27,  1S20. 

20* 


466 


APrENDIX.    III. 


Elected: 
51.-  17yt,  Jan.  22 
52.—    .      Feb.  3 
53.—    .      June  9 
54.— 1797,  Jan.  21 
65.-1799,  Feb.  12 
56.—    .      Feb.  26 
57.— 1800,  Feb.  4 
58.—    .      Mar.  4 
59.—    .       Mar.  18 
60.—    .      June  10 
61.-1801,  War.  17 
62.— 1802,  Dec.  7 
63.—    .      Dec.  21 
64.— 1808,  Jan.  25 
65.—    .      Feb.  28 
66—1804,  Mar.  20 
67.— 1806,  Jan.  21 
68.-    ,      May  13 
69.—    .      May  27 
TO.— 1808,  Mar.  22 
71.—    .      May  8 
T2.~    .      May  81 
73.-1809,  Feb.  21 
74.—    .      Mar.  T 
75—    .      Mar.  21 
76.— 1810,  Feb.  27 
77.-1811,  June  4 
78.-1813,  Mar.  2 
79.—    .      Mar.  2 
80.— 1814,  June  7 
81.—    .      July  19 
82  —    .       Aug.  2 
S3.— 1815,  Feb.  21 
84.—    .      Apr.  4 
85.-1816,  Mar.  26 
86.-1817,  Apr.  8 
67.-1818,  Jan.  27, 
88.—    .      Apr.  7 
69  —    .      Apr.  21 
90.-1820,  Jan.  25 
91.—    .      . 
92.— 1821,  ivlar.  20 
93.— 1822,  Apr.  16 
94.— 1823,  May  27 
95—    .      . 
96.-1826,  Dec.  12 
97.— 1828,  May  6 
98.—    .      May  20 
99.—    .      . 
100.-1829,  Apr.  7 


Menibera. 

Major  Rennell 

Rev.  Dr.  Richard  Farmer 

The  Marquess  of  Bath 

Frederick  North,  Earl  of  Guildford  . 

The  Rt.  Hon.  George  Canning 

William  Marsden,  Esq.       .        .        . 

Rt.  Hon.  John  Hookham  Frere         . 

Rt.  Hon.  Thomas  Grenville 

Dr.  Vincent,  Dean  of  Westminster 

William  Lock,  jun.  Esq.     .        .        . 

George  Ellis,  Esq.       .... 

Gilbert  Lord  Minto    .... 

Dr.  French  Lawrence         .        .        . 

Rt.  Hon.  Sir  William  Grant       .        . 

Sir  George  Staunton,  Bart. 

Dr.  S.  Horsley,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph 

Charles  Wilkins,  Esq.         .         .         . 

Rt.  Hon.  Sir  William  Drummond 

Sir  Henry  Halford,  Bart.   . 

Sir  H.  C.  Englefleld,  Bart. 

The  Lord  Holland      .... 

The  Earl  of  Aberdeen        .        .        . 

Charles  Hatchett,  Esq. 

Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Charles  Vaughan  , 

Sir  Humphry  Davy,  Bart.  .        . 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Charles  Burney    .        . 

Sir  William  Gell  .... 

Rt.  Hon.  William  Elliot     . 

Richard  Heber,  Esq.  .        . 

Thomas  Phillips,  Esq.  R.A. 

Rt.  Hon.  Sir  James  Mackintosk        . 

Lord  Chief  Justice  Gibbs  .        . 

The  Marquess  of  Lansdowne     .        .• 

The  Lord  Lyttelton    .... 

Dr.  William  Howley,  Bishop  of  London* 

Roger  Wilbraham,  Esq.      ... 

The  Lord  Glenbervie 

Dr.  AVilliam  Hyde  WoUaston     . 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  Bart. 

The  Earl  of  Liverpool        .        .        . 

Charles  Butler,  Esq 

Dr.  C.  J.  Blomfield,  Bishop  of  London 

Rt.  Hon.  W.  C.  Plunket,  Lord  Plunket, 

Francis  Chantrey,  Esq.  R.A. 

Henry  Hallam,  Esq.    .... 

Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  P. R.A.   . 

Lieutenant-Colonel  W.  M.  Leake,    . 

Thomas  Young,  M.D. 

Rev.  William  Buckland,  D.D.    . 

J.  N.  Fazakerley,  Esq. 


Died 
Mar.  29, 
Sept.  8, 
Nov.  20, 
Oct.  14, 
Aug.  8, 


Dec.  21,  1815 

Apr.  10,  1815. 

June  24,  1814. 

Feb.  27,  1809. 

May  25,  1832. 

Oct.  4,  1806. 

Mar.  29,  1828. 

Mar.  21,  1822. 


May  29, 
Dec.  28, 

Oct.  26, 
Oct.  4, 

May  30, 
Feb.  8. 


Jan.  6, 
May  2, 
Dec.  22, 
Sept.  21, 
Dec.  4, 
June  2, 


Jau.  14,       1800. 
May  10,       1839L 


*  Dr.  William  Howley  withdrew  from  the  Club  on  becoming  Archbishop  of  Cant et bury, 
February  1829. 


LrST    OF    THE    CLUB 


i6<r 


Elected. 
101.— 1S29.  Apr.  7 
102—    .      May  19 
103.— 1830,  JIar.  9 
104.—    .      May  4 
105.—    .      . 
106.-1832,  Apr.  3 
107.—    .      Julys 
108.- 1833,  May  14 
109.— 1834,  Apr.  15 
110.—    .      Apr.  29 
111.—    .      Apr.  29 


Members.  Died, 

Dr.  Edward  Copleston,  Bishop  of  Landaff       . 
Davies  Gilbert,  Esq.  P.R.S 
Lord  Brougham  and  Vaux 
Henry  Gaily  Knight,  Esq. 
The  Hon.  Mount  Stuart  Elphinstone 

Lord  Dover July  10,       1588. 

Sir  Margin  Arthur  Shee,  P.R.A. 

Viscount  Mahon 

Hudson  Gurney,  Esq. 

Rev.  Dr.  Charles  Parr  Burney  . 

The  Earl  of  Carnarvon      .        . 


THE  CLUB,  as  it  stood  MARCH  10,  1886. 

The  Earl  of  Aberdeen,  P.S.A. 

Lord  Brougham  and  Vaux. 

Rev.  Dr.  Buckland. 

Rev.  Dr.  Charles  Parr  Burney. 

The  Earl  of  Carnarvon- 

Francis  Chaatr^y,  te^   !■>  . 

The  Hon.  Mount  Stuart  Elphinstone. 

J.  N.  Fazakerley,  Esq. 

The  Rt.  Hon.  John  Hookham  Frere. 

Sir  William  Gell. 

David  Gilbert,  Esq.  P.R.S. 

Rt.  Hon.  Thomas  Grenville. 

Hudson  Gurney,  Esq. 

Sir  Henry  Halford,  Bart. 

Henry  Hallam,  Esq. 

Charles  Hatchett,  Esq.     (Treasurer.) 

Lord  Holland. 

Henry  Galley  Knight,  Esq. 

The  Bishop  of  Llandaff(Dr.  Edward  Copleston). 

The  Marquess  of  Lansdowne. 

Lieut.-Col.  Leake. 

William  Locke,  Esq. 

The  Bishop  of  London  (Dr.  C.  J.  Blomfield). 

Lord  Lyttelton. 

Viscount  Mahon. 

William  Marsden,  Esq. 

Thomas  Phillips,  Esq.  R  A. 

Lord  Plunket. 

Sir  Martin  Archer  Shee,  P.R.A. 

Sir  George  Thomas  Staunton,  Bart. 

Lord  Stowell  (senior  member  of  the  Club). 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Charles  Vaughan. 

Sir  Charles  Wilkins. 


At  the  meetings  of  the  club  the  chair  is  taken  in  rotation  by  the  members, 
iiccording  to  the  alphabetical  arrangement  of  their  names;  the  only  permanenl 
officer  being  the  treasurer. 

Mr.  Malone  was  the  first  treasurer;  and  upon  his  decease,  in  18i2,  Sir  He 


468 


APPENDIX,  iii. 


Charles  Englefield  was  elected  to  that  office,  which,  however,  on  account  of 
weciki^ess  of  sight,  he  resigned  in  1814;  when  the  Rev.  Dr.  Charles  Burnev  was 
chosen,  and  continued  to  be  treasurer  until  his  death,  which  took  place  in 
December,  1817  ;  and  on  the  10th  of  March  1818,  Mr.  Hatchett,  the  present 
treasurer   was  elected.  ^ 


PR 
.3: 


! 


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